The Fight for the World
by PlasticPlastic
Summary: I never thought that it would be this way. I never thought that when the moment finally came, it would be the wrong person on the end of the most deadly curse of all time...That we would still be fighting, after all this time...Chapter 12 is up!
1. Chapter 1

_I never thought it would be like this_, mused Ron as he stared out into the deadened wasteland before him. _I never thought that, when the moment came, it would be the wrong person on the end of the most deadly curse of all time. That we would still be fighting, after all this time...even after the Great Battle..._

Ron cut off his musings as three popping sounds were head, signaling the arrival of three people Apparating in. An optimistic operative might think that it's simply reinforcements. Ron was far too war-hardened for that kind of thinking by now, though. Too many were dead because they thought the same thing.

Ron ducked, somersaulted, and pulled out his wand with lightning speed, an Imperius Curse and two Cruciatus Curses narrowly missing him as he dodged.

_"Incarcerus!" _Ron yelled, pointing his wand out at one of the hooded black figures. Thin ropes rippled out and wrapped around the opposing Death Eater, silencing him as he fell to the ground and struggled futilely against the ropes. Ron ducked and narrowly avoided a Stunning Spell from the third Death Eater. Ron flicked his wand and a red jet shot out, hitting the Death Eater square before he could cut his fellow Death Eater out of his bonds. The Death Eater fell and skidded a few feet back, Stunned.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Ron ducked the Disarming Spell, but too late, and his wand flew out of his hand, twenty feet away. Ron's options were limited, as the Death Eater swung his wand around at Ron to deliver a finishing spell.

But he had been in too many dangerous situations to lose his cool by now over the possibility of being killed. He put his shoulder down and bulled into the man's abdomen, winding him and felling him as well. The man's wand fell out of his hand, and the slightly pudgy man grasped for it as he lay against the floor. Ron quickly grabbed it, as he had far faster reflexes and was much stronger as well, and stunned him. Ron then went out to find his own wand.

When he was sure everything was alright, Ron wearily raised his wand arm.

_"Expecto Patronum!"_

A silver Jack Terrier shot off into the night, and Ron sat down and waited for further orders.

Three minutes later, Lee Jordan Apparated in.

"Ron!" Lee looked concerned. Ron looked alright, but very tired, taller and more muscular than he had been a mere few years ago, and he had a few scrapes and cuts on his arms and legs.

"Lee. I've got three. Can't identify them on sight, though, so they must not be very important. New recruits, I think. Grunts."

Lee nodded. "You'd best take them away. I'm here to relieve you."

"Thanks, Lee."

Lee shook his head. "You've been working yourself into the ground, mate. Get some rest."

Ron nodded dimly. He had never had anything to do except work for the Order lately, anyway, and there were all too many assignments to be had in these dark days.

He just never thought that it would ever have happened this way.

"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed, seeing him, and coming in for a hug. "Are you all right? I heard you had three Death Eaters attack you!"

Ron shrugged. "Just the usual fare. Can't even identify them. I don't think Voldemort really expected that it would work."

Ginny gave no trace of discomfort when Ron said the Dark Lord's name. Neither really cared any more. They hadn't ever since the devastation of the Great Battle.

"Is she any better?" Ron asked, anxiously, before Ginny could talk again.

Ginny seemed worried. "Not better, not worse. Pomfrey says that if she could just access the stores at St. Mungo's...but she's been saying that all the time, recently. You can go see her, if you like, but she's been out cold all day."

Ron sighed. "I wish she would get better. I don't think I could stand it..."

Ron didn't need need to finish his sentence. They both understood.

Ginny started for a moment. "Anyway, McGonagall says she wants to see you. Get debriefed, and all."

Ron nodded. "All right, save me a seat at the lunch table."

Ginny went off desolately by herself as Ron left. Ron thought that of everybody who cared for Harry, she was the one who had been hit the worst by it. When it had happened, he remembered seeing her face, desperate, but with no tears, simply unbelieving, and then the most wretched screams seemed to come out of her as she realized that he was finished. Harry's last conscious moment had been staring up into Voldemort's face, and then, suddenly, an anguished glance at Ginny before he fell motionless to the ground, looking oddly peaceful. Ron had had to carry her away himself, as she was screaming at him and struggling for him to let go. Ron didn't care though, and he had never needed her apology that she eventually gave him for her behavior. He understood. He suspected that he would have acted similarly - but he was forced to think more clearly, for Ginny's sake, if not his own.

Ron knocked on the mahogany door. "Operative Weasley, reporting in."

"Come in," McGonagall's weary voice said.

Ron opened the door.

"Are you all right?" McGonagall asked first. She always made it a point to show how much she cared for her operatives' lives, even when putting them in life-threatening situations - something that was becoming a necessity on all missions these days.

"Yes, I'm fine. Poorly planned. Voldemort won't be happy we caught them, though, but I don't think it's unanticipated. Just another failed plan he'll have to try again later."

"Don't say that, Operative Weasley," McGonagall interjected sharply, dismayed to see a naturally optimistic man so bitter.

"Sorry. It just seems - I'm just on edge lately."

McGonagall nodded.

"It's alright, Operative Weasley. I don't think anyway has been working harder than you lately. Get some rest."

That was the dismissal sign. Ron, though, had another issue on his mind. McGonagall looked up at him when she realized that he hadn't left.

"If I may, Director?"

McGonagall nodded curtly.

"I'd like to suggest the possibility of organizing a strike team to go into St. Mungo's and covertly taking some medicine. Optimistically, we could also drive out Death Eater occupation, but I don't think that's in the realm of possibility."

McGonagall sighed.

"Mr. Weasley, do you not think that I have not thought of just such a strike team to do that recently?"

Ron kept his face a mask of discretion. "I have, but I wanted to inquire. I would also like to lead the strike team, with your permission, and wasn't sure if I would be your selection either way."

A beat.

"We can't risk it."

"We can't risk not doing it, Director!" Ron said, flaring up from his formerly calm and passive demeanor.

"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall said. "Pray tell, please do not let your personal feelings get in the way of what is necessary."

"It has nothing to do with personal feelings."

"I think it has everything to do with personal feelings, Mr. Weasley, and I think you know that as well."

"Not everything," Ron conceded. "Director, there are too many injured to carry on the fight. Our numbers dwindle fast. We need medicine. I think three more were injured today as well."

"Five," McGonagall corrected him with a heavy heart.

"Also, it's clearly systematic," Ron pointed out. "He's not just targeting anybody. Clear leaders. People who had ties to - ties to Harry. Symbols."

McGonagall looked surprised. She hadn't thought of that, but realizing it, there was a clear pattern.

"He's taking us down slowly, but the trend is clear. Without our heads, the Order will fall, and members will lose hope. And either way - we can't just leave these people to die, Director!"

Ron became impassioned, but immediately wished he hadn't. It would only hurt his case that he wasn't let his personal feelings about Hermione get involved.

McGonagall held Ron's gaze for a full minute before saying anything.

"Mr. Weasley," she started. "If you can do a reconnaissance of the area with an operative that has my approval, lay out a map and a viable plan of attack for this area, and pick the members of such a strike team subject to my approval - then you may carry out this proposed operation."

"Thank you, Director." Ron couldn't help but smile, and started to turn around and leave.

"And Mr. Weasley?" Ron turned around. "Either way, if this operation occurs, it will have to be absolutely covert. If possible we don't want the Death Eaters to even know we've come before we've gone, or never to find out at all. We can not take over St. Mungo's, as it is too deep in his territory and far too heavily guarded. _Understood_, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron nodded reluctantly, but he wasn't surprised.

"Then you may go. And for goodness' sakes, Mr. Weasley, do get some rest and some food before you go away. And make sure that the Death Eaters do not notice your reconnaissance job."

Ron left the Director of the Order of the Phoenix's Headquarters to go to lunch, and to think of someone who could help him on his recon mission.


	2. Chapter 2

"Is she any better?" Ron asked immediately, sweeping into the makeshift infirmary that the Order had been forced to make after the loss of St. Mungo's. "Is she any better?" Ron repeated again, though he had already known the answer from Ginny. Still, Ron looked at Madame Pomfrey with hopeful eyes.

"I'm afraid not," Madame Pomfrey said primly, as she already knew what he was talking about. "But at the moment she's fine."

Pomfrey knew instantly she had said the wrong thing.

"Fine!" Ron exploded, his eyes virtually flashing red. He calmed himself down quickly under Pomfrey's stern glare, though, as he knew that she was working her best at the moment with what she had. "Sorry," Ron added apologetically.

Pomfrey nodded curtly.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes, actually. I was wondering - you've mentioned that it would be possible to heal her if you had supplies from St. Mungo's?"

"Her and many others," Pomfrey sighed drearily. "But at the moment, we're so short on medical - wait, now, Mr. Weasley, you don't say that _you'll_ be going to St. Mungo's! We can't have any more injured people as it is, much less you - Mr. Weasley!"

"Of course not. Purely hypothetical. Wishful thinking, I suppose," Ron lied in order to get out of the uncomfortable conversation, as strictly speaking, he should not have mentioned the operation or alluded to it in any form. Pomfrey gave him a suspicious glance, and he could tell that the old witch was much too clever to fall for such obvious deception. Nevertheless, she let the matter go. Perhaps no one in the world had been carrying greater weights on their shoulder for a long time than Ron Weasley, since he was the only remaining member of the trio that was supposed to save the world that was still largely uninjured and still very capable. Every time Ron passed, people would look at him with an odd sort of hope, thinking that he would somehow be able to magically lift them out of the situation. Things had only gotten worse with Hermione's near-fatal injuries.

"Can I see her?" Ron asked hopefully.

"You may, but it won't do you any good," said Pomfrey sympathetically.

Ron nodded grimly and went over to the bed of the person he cared about most in the world.

"Hermione," he said, unanswered, as he gazed at her. He grasped her hands lightly, searching for a sign of life. And of course, there were signs of life. A faint pulse. Slow, ragged, but substantial breathing. And worst of all, the occasionally flickering eyes, her hands and fingers twitching every now and then, unintelligible murmurs escaping from her lips. They only served to hurt Ron more, as somehow he always hoped that perhaps it was _this_ time that she had woken up, and his hopes were always crushed in seconds. Ron looked directly into her eyes, searching for some sign of life, but they were where you could _really_ tell that Hermione was still asleep, as they were uncharacteristically vacant and empty, even moving occasionally, but looking at something _else_, something that she and only she could see in her mind's eye.

Ron stared at her for another few moments, before a familiar voice interrupted him out of his reverie.

"Ron," Ginny said to him. "Come on, let's go to lunch."

Ron sighed but nodded slowly and got up. "Alright."

"Here, I already got you something," Ginny said, handing him a sandwich as they seated themselves. Ron looked around, depressed, as he noticed that, as usual, Ginny and he were distinctly separated from the rest of the group. People rarely treated them normally any more, especially after the Battle, and looked at both of them with odd looks of mixtures of hope in many of their eyes, and in some of the more lucid ones, of pity. Few, though, looked at him as a friend. Ron found that, barring a few notable exceptions, he simply couldn't socialize with anybody in the Order other than people who had known _before_ all of this happened - Dean, Seamus, Neville, Lupin, etc.

"Did you get debriefed?" Ginny asked him as he ate.

"I did, yes."

"Tell you anything?"

"Just to get rested."

"Anything else happen?" Ginny looked at him, searching his eyes. Ron decided that it would be better to simply tell her, as she would find out anyway.

"Yes. I asked permission to do a covert raid on St. Mungo's - pick up the medical supplies that Pomfrey wishes she could get her hands on so much."

"I thought you might," said Ginny, leaning back, looking simultaneously excited, worried, but eager. "So...when are we going?"

Ron was used to this question by now. When Ginny had started and joined the Order - against the worried protestations of her mother, who was aghast to realize that the last of her children was now fully grown up and rather unwilling to let go - Ron (and Harry as well) had had to force himself to reconcile with the fact that Ginny was also going to put herself in great danger - a fact that he didn't warm up to at first. But, gradually, he got used to it, and though he also worried about Ginny just as much as he used to, he knew that she was far too strong-willed to let him hide her away. And in any case, he didn't really have any grounds to stand on. Ginny was just as much a woman as he was a man. She deserved to go. She had the right.

"Well," Ron said with his voice low, "McGonagall insisted that I do a recon mission first with another operative, and map out a plan of attack for her as well. If she likes it enough, she'll let me go."

"I'll do the recon with you," Ginny said fiercely.

"You'd be my first choice, Gin," Ron said, pacifying her. "But the operative is subject to McGonagall's approval."

"And why wouldn't she let me go?"

"She believes that I may perhaps let my personal feelings get involved. To a dangerous point."

Ginny comprehended immediately, and didn't push the subject, although Ron could tell she didn't like the idea of not coming.

"Alright. You'll tell me, then, when you leave, and put me on the team - right?" Ginny asked nervously.

"Right. In any case, I'm wondering who to put on that McGonagall would think suitable. Any suggestions?"

Ron and Ginny glanced around the room, looking for an operative that they could trust and who was capable. Ginny turned back to him after a minute.

"What about Chris?"

Christopher Galen nervously glanced around the outdoors again, and ran his hand through his wavy blonde hair. Chris was an attractive man, barely out of his twenties and only just having acquired top grade NEWT's from some obscure American school, the name of which Ron could never remember. Chris was one of very few Americans involved in the war currently happening, as wizarding Americans were insistent on staying out of European affairs and troubles. Chris, and scant few others, had some other ideas and thought that if Voldemort took over Europe, the consequences would be dire for the rest of the world as well. A useful contact that Dumbledore had made in America had notified McGonagall, and eventually, after an intense screening process, the Americans were let in and allowed to fight.

Chris was one of the few people that Ron could get along with very well whom he hadn't met in Hogwarts, or before Harry had died. For one thing, he didn't regard Ron as the possible savior of everything. The name of 'Harry Potter' simply didn't have the same mythology in America as it did in England, because when Harry miraculously survived and rebounded Voldemort's spell onto the Dark Lord, rendering him virtually powerless, Voldemort hadn't yet moved in on domination of America, as he still hadn't taken over Europe. So while Chris was aware of the whole story by now, and did know that Ron was the best friend of the deceased Chosen One, he didn't have the tendency to put Ron on a higher level than other men, or treat him like he was tremendously different. The second attribute that Ron liked about Chris was that he was incredibly aimiable. Which wasn't to say that everybody liked him, for he was too open, too honest (a trait that was key for McGonagall approving him), and too twitchy for everybody to like. Nevertheless, Ron found Chris's unfailing lack of any sort of attempts at lies or deception refreshing, and the two were fast friends.

"Alright," Chris stuttered out, in his jarringly American accent, "shall we go over the plan again?"

"Bloody hell, Chris," said Ron, rolling his eyes, "I didn't pick you because you were stupid, and McGonagall didn't approve you because you were stupid, either. You know the plan perfectly well."

"All the same," Chris said, then paused for a moment. "All the same," he repeated, "I would still like to go over it. I mean, I just don't have much _experience_ in these sorts of affairs and you've just had so _much _and -"

"Chris!" Ron said, interrupting him. "Calm down, will you? We're not even doing any fighting here. Just a regular old recon mission here, alright?"

"Regular old! Regular old!" Chris repeated in a state of increasing agitation. "Maybe for _you,_ but this is a mission of incomprehensibly disproportional danger!"

"Chris," said Ron, laughing, "I'm only a year older than you. You're acting like I'm Moody, or something. Now, are you done your hissy fit?"

"Fifteen months," Chris muttered under his breath. "And that was most certainly _not_ a 'hissy fit', as you called it. Simply a case of slight nerves, was all. Just slight nerves."

"Right," said Ron. "You just keep telling yourself that. Apparate on three...two...one..."

The two men vanished from the pitch-black night, on the stroke of midnight.


	3. Chapter 3

ginny278 - Thanks a lot for the review. They always help.

Hint, hint guys.

Ron Apparated into the misty desolate section that was St. Mungo's, as Chris Apparated in next to him in a moment. Both hit the ground immediately and scanned their surroundings to check if any Death Eaters had heard them, but thankfully, there were none in the close vicinity, as Ron had figured it would be. Quickly, they cast Disillusionment Charms - Invisibility Cloaks would be too clumsy for these circumstances - and got up slowly and soundlessly, and then cast Silencing Charms on themselves. Ron beckoned to Chris to follow him and the two stayed close to the ground in London.

It was shocking, really, the change that had happened in London. No previous wizarding conflicts had ever impacted the Muggle world so heavily. But the Muggle world _was_ hit, as Voldemort waged open war on Muggles, ruthlessly killing mobs of them and taking down buildings in the open streets in the middle of the day. In fact, most Muggles of the world now knew about the existence of magic, something that had horrified the Ministry to a very great extent. But Muggles were virtually powerless to do anything about the magic, despite worldwide clamoring from rabble-rousing Muggle politicians to hunt the wizards down. But the hunt for wizards and witches were indeed as ineffective as the old witch burnings in Medieval times, and were more a nuisance for either side.

Thus, the astonishing change in London. It had been one of Voldemort's greatest victories, taking London, and Ron knew it was not a coincidence that it was only a week after the Great Battle that Voldemort had made his full-out attack on London. The first wave came from the inside, as Death Eater insiders in the Ministry of Magic allowed them to infiltrate and systematically destroy all Ministry resources, and kill anybody who wasn't lucky enough to either not be there or get out fast. It was a short, quick battle as there were too many traitors in Ministry ranks for the good guys to know who to fight. Quickly, the Death Eaters moved onto St. Mungo's, another strong focal point for wizards and witches to be in London, as well as an obvious point of defence as it had tons of healing supplies already there. The battle there was even shorter, as St. Mungo's was not as secure as the Ministry, and then the Death Eaters, a mere twelve hours later, moved in on the killing blow. Both of the other attacks had occured totally covert - no Muggles even knew it had happened. Suddenly, Voldemort ordered his Death Eaters out into the open, and the worst mass Muggle killing in centuries occured. Buildings in London collapsing on each other, trains exploding off of the tracks and skidding out into the street before combusting to create a massive explosion, Dementors swooping in on unknowing Muggles and administering the Dementor's Kiss on them, sucking souls out joyfully as they absorbed all the emotions that London was rife with. Thousands dead. The Order, helpless to stop it, crippled by a lack of numbers and by a breakdown of communications as key members were killed and captured.

And London was empty now. Some Muggles on the outskirts, too foolish to desert their now ruined home, but the cars were gone, smoking, the lights and electricity weren't powered, bodies could be found on the streets sometimes, and the occasional Death Eater or Dementor running or swooping around, looking for victims or intruders.

Ron shivered. Such a horrible place, such a ghastly transformation - it would have not been imagined in even the darkest places of Ron's mind. Never had such an event wrought such a change in the world. The Order had never thought that Voldemort would be _capable_, that he would have that many Death Eaters at his call. But wizards were joining Voldemort fast, some outright declaring themselves, arrogant pure-blooded wizards, seeing the Muggle panic, thinking that perhaps extermination would be the right way to go about things.

_Do we have hope? _Ron wondered as he darted around the streets silently, Chris tailing him precisely and keeping a watch out. _Against such an evil, such power, and so many, is it even worth it to fight any more? Even if it's worth it, can we even win?_

Ron stopped his musings short abruptly. St. Mungo's security was heavy, but as Ron scanned it, he could see it wasn't impenetrable.

"Six dementors, patrolling circular pattern on ground," Ron whispered to Chris in an undertone, as Chris scribbled notes down on the paper.

"I count five."

"Six - look - in the back - "

"Alright, alright. What else?"

"At least four Death Eaters patrolling inside floor. Looks like there are a substantial amount of spells inside on the lower level. Besides that, I can't tell." Ron sighed.

"And we can't go in," Chris interjected.

"No, we can't. Too dangerous for now. Well, we already know the layout. Make a sketch, quickly. Then we can get a little closer."

"Ron, we can't!"

"Not go in, just get a little closer. This is a goddamn recon mission Chris, I'm not going to get us killed."

Chris pulled out a notepad and made a quick cursory sketch of the building, then marked the paths of the patrolling dementors.

"Alright, that's good. Follow me. Come _on, _Chris!"

Chris hesitated for a moment as Ron darted out of the bushes and hid at an alley-way behind the building to the immediate right of St. Mungo's, and darted after Ron, staying low to the ground and looking nervously at the dementors, who had seemed to detect something.

"Building to the right is empty. Mark it. No patrol. No nothing. I think - weak protection enchantments. Shoddily done. Wearing down."

Chris scribbled as Ron talked.

"Quieter! Come on, then."

"Ron - I think the dementors -"

"They can't detect us at this distance. The enchantments over here confuse them as well."

"Ron, I'm serious, I think that they -"

"Shut up!" Ron said in an unusually harsh voice, signaling something had changed. He waited a beat. "Do you hear something?"

Chris didn't hear anything. "What are you -"

"_Quiet!_ Listen - it's a girl." Ron's eyes darted around as he tried to locate the sounds.

Chris continued to be clueless for a moment, but gradually, as he stayed quiet, the sobs started to penetrate through - muffled, racked sobs, from a young girl.

"Yeah - yeah, I hear her! Where is she? Who is she? Could she be - is she a trap?"

Ron shook his head. "Only one way to find out. Come on, I think she's in the building here."

"Ron, our mission is only to -"

Ron was already tiptoeing over to the doors of the building, though, and had quickly opened it and beckoned to Chris, roundly ignoring his protestations. He muffled a sigh as he followed Ron through. Besides, it was true, they couldn't really just leave the girl there.

Ron scanned the dusty, largely misused room quickly for Death Eaters, but there was nothing. The windows were cracked and broken, cobwebs lay everywhere, and the doors and floors creaked, but then again, most of London was like this these days. It was clearly some kind of deserted Muggle home, Ron gathered, as he saw the shattered, broken remains of a television on the floor, an unplugged and wrecked telephone on a table which had only one leg fully standing, cracked frames of paintings, and sparking wires that had been wrenched from their usual paths, threatening to electrocute. Ron chose his steps carefully and quietly, and turned the knob of the next room. The girl's sobs got more audible as they were closer, and both Chris and Ron were surprised that they had heard her at all. Ron quickly swung the door open and darted to the side along with Chris, to the shadows, as they cast their eyes on the bewildered girl.

She was young, but old enough not to be helpless, somewhere in her teens, covered in dirt and grime, her hair matted and tangled, her clothes somewhat tattered, and many scratches and bruises on her body. She was alert, though, and had immediately darted up when the door opened, her crying ceasing immediately, her green eyes darting around the room, and her right hand raised immediately with the wand pointing warily at the door. She looked around, surprised not to see anybody, as she hadn't looked at the door when they swung it open, and the Disillusionment Charms were cover enough in the shadows.

"Where are you?" she said, her voice quavering. "Come to kill me again? I'll fight! Are you too cowardly to show yourself?" The girl demanded, her wand swinging around her voice strengthening as she looked around and gained the full extent of her consciousness.

"We're here to help," Ron said, revealing himself out of the shadows and breaking his Disillusionment Charm as he spoke. Chris reluctantly followed his lead. The girl swung her wand around at them and pointed it at Ron's chest, but didn't attack, and Ron's wand remained loosely at his side in a nonthreatening manner.

"Who are you?"

"This is Chris Galen. I'm Ron Weasley. We need to get you out of here. Come on." Ron gently took hold of the girl's arm as he spoke.

"Ron Weasley! _The _Ron Weasley?"

"That's me. Come on, then. You're too young to Apparate, right?"

The girl nodded tentatively.

"We can talk about why you're here later. In the mean-time, grab my arm tightly - hold it - tighter - good. _Don't_ let go. This will feel very weird, and likely uncomfortable."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Some place safe. I promise, we're not here to hurt you."

The girl nodded after a moment and grabbed his arm and shut her eyes tightly as well, gripping Ron's upper arm with an intensity that was cutting off his bloodflow. Ron signaled to Chris and the two Apparated out with no trace to leave behind.


	4. Chapter 4

ginny728 - Thanks so much for your review. I feel extremely honored that you would even bother to think of putting my story on your bio. Thanks for your help and your words _are_ very much appreciated. Hope you like the latest chapter.

Daisfunk - Harry's dead, pretty much. Deceased. Gone. At least for the time being, in any case (wink wink, nudge nudge). I'll reveal more about his burial and how he died later. I'm sorry if I implied that he survived anywhere, if I did, just tell me where and I'll fix it. Thanks a lot for your review. It is true that just in general, fanfiction tends not to be as serious as this fiction. I'm trying not to overdo it in any case, but it's a very bleak outcome indeed.

As usual, reviews are always appreciated. Thanks for reading.

"You just found her?"

"Yes," Ron repeated for the seventh time to Ginny. "We just found her. We were in an alleyway next to the building next to St. Mungo's, and we heard her crying and went to investigate."

"Do you know her name?"

"Anything about her?"

"Not really. She's a witch, obviously, as she has a wand. And she's probably underage as well, she didn't know how to Apparate."

"Where is she now?"

"Hospital Wing, getting some scratches and bruises treated. Then she'll be put through the mill."

"What?" Ginny asked, looking confused.

"Ginny," said Ron, laughing. His sister was more than capable, but still a little inexperienced, and altogether far too trusting for her own good. "You can't just take random witches off the street and trust them. We have to know if she's the real thing, and more important, who she is and how much she knows. And where her parents are." Ron sighed.

"Dead, you think?"

"It's very likely. Optimistically, they could've been out on vacation. But I think it much more likely that the situations were reversed, that the girl was out and the parents were killed, and she came back to find - you know -"

Ginny nodded sadly. "Yeah. But why didn't she go somewhere else?"

"Where else to go?" Ron shrugged. "She's a young girl. Friends are in all likelihood dead as well, and she can't really travel anywhere for any length of time. If she goes out of the building, she'll be killed by Death Eaters, or have her soul sucked by dementors. I'm actually surprised she was alive at all."

"Unless she's a spy."

"Unless she's a spy," Ron confirmed. "But I'll be able to find that out soon, since I'll be the one questioning her."

"You asked McGonagall?"

"Yeah, and she seemed to think it a good idea. She'll trust me and Chris the most anyway at the moment, but Chris is out already again on an assignment, so it'll have to be me. Besides, I'm curious about her myself, you know."

"Yeah, well, hopefully you'll find out more about her. Did you get the layout of St. Mungo's? Do you have a plan yet?"

"We've got the layout, even though we had to leave a little earlier due to the girl. I don't have a plan all worked out yet, but a few ideas."

"A decoy?"

"A part of it, yeah. But there's more, as just that would be too obvious. A decoy alone would just make them intensify security on St. Mungo's, as they don't really care if anything else is destroyed."

Ginny nodded. "Well, tell me when. I think Mum has conspired to stop me getting assignments in the past week or so, because all of my jobs are mysteriously re-allocated to other operatives all the time."

Ron laughed. "That's very likely. She did that to me before you were in as well."

"How did you stop her?" Ginny asked, looking slightly hopeful that her hiatus would soon be ended.

"You can't really sneak around Mom in the Order, she knows too many people. Your best bet is either a direct confrontation with her, and if that doesn't work, then go to Lupin or McGonagall. Lupin first, I would say. He's an understanding guy, he'll help you out, even though he's not the head."

"Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said, interrupting Ron and Ginny's talks. "I think now would be the optimal time for you to interview her."

"Now? Doesn't she need more time for her injuries?"

McGonagall shook her head. "They looked worse than they were. Mostly superficial, not even a broken bone. She seems quite lucid. I think now would be good - she's in Room 212."

Ron nodded. "Alright, Director. I'll go see her now. See you, Gin."

"See you, Ron."

Ron pushed open the plain brown wood door of Room 212 and saw a nervous looking girl sitting on the bed there. Ron noticed that the girl looked dramatically different when she was awake. She was clearly a brunette, with light brown hair, and now that her hair was clean, Ron was able to tell that it was extremely curly, bouncing down to her shoulders. She was pale-skinned but was largely free of any blemishes. Huge, beautiful green eyes looked out from long eyelashes. Ron would estimate her to be around sixteen or fifteen. He couldn't help but notice that she was also very pretty. Her hands were placed together, folded, and her fingers drummed against her own hand as she looked nervously around. She had looked up and for an eerie moment had looked Ron directly in the eye, but quickly blushed after a moment and set her head down, determinedly avoiding his eyes, and mostly looking down at her lap.

"Hello," Ron said kindly, Conjuring a comfortable chair to sit in across from her.

"Hi," the girl said, almost inaudibly.

"What's your name?"

"Rebecca," the girl replied, still refusing to look in Ron's eyes. "Rebecca Cays."

"Rebecca," Ron said softly. "Come, look me in the eye."

The girl raised her head slowly, but obeyed, and eventually locked eyes with Ron, looking at him directly.

Ron grinned to defuse the situation.

"It's alright. No worries. Now, my name is Ron Weasley - but of course, you already know that."

The girl grinned, showing signs of becoming comfortable for the first time.

"Well, everybody does, don't they?"

"What?" Ron was genuinely surprised.

"Everybody knows your name, Mr. Weasley -"

"Just Ron -" said Ron quickly. It made him feel very old to be called Mr. Weasley.

"I mean, you're famous!"

"Famous?" Ron said, repeating the word in a half-hush, wondering for a moment, and, for a brief second, reliving childhood dreams of outshining all his brothers.

"Seriously?"

"Well, yeah." The girl seemed perplexed at Ron's confusion.

"Well, alright, then. How did you end up - where Chris and I found you?"

"Is the man alright?" Rebecca blurted out.

"What?" said Ron, lost.

"Is he alright? The man that came with you when you saved me."

"What, Chris?" said Ron. "He's fine, yeah. I mean - why wouldn't he be?"

"I was just wondering," said Rebecca shyly. "I mean, you two did save me."

"I would hardly call it saving you," said Ron quickly. "We just gave you the way out. Anyway, how did you get there?"

Ron regretted bringing the subject up, but knew he had to, and continued to stare directly at Rebecca, searching for any signs of lies. She looked down for a moment, and tears immediately watered her eyes, but she quickly brought them up again and looked bravely, and, Ron felt, almost defiantly.

"I was at my friend's house - the day He attacked. All of a sudden we heard this huge quake. I saw the building across the street topple down, heard horrible screams..." Rebecca's eyes shut for a moment, then opened again, a tear seeping out.

"It's alright...it'll be easier for you if you say it."

"So Jenny's Dad told us to get out with her sister, but then - _they_ came."

"Who - dementors?" Ron guessed from the look of fear in her eyes, and was sorry to see Rebecca nod in confirmation.

"That's right. Dementors. They came and they - they -"

"Alright," said Ron, not wishing to hear about the Dementor's Kiss. "What did you do?"

"I tried to use a Patronus, but I had only really read about it, and I couldn't do a strong enough one, there were so many...so I ran and hid, and one followed me, but a man came and used a Patronus on it and saved me, but he got - he got -"

"Alright," said Ron, his expression becoming sombre and more ashen. He knew that everyone through London had gone through similar experiences, but it still horrified him to see a teenage girl recounting such terrifying memories.

"So I hid, and I didn't really know where I was, and then...you found me."

Ron was surprised there wasn't more to it. "Really? You didn't know you were right next to St. Mungo's, or that there were a lot of Death Eaters or Dementors?"

"I did. My friend's Dad was a doctor there, that's why we were so close. I knew they were all there too. That's why I couldn't leave. If I went out, they'd find me. I thought they'd still find me. I thought, when you two came, that they had come..."

Ron nodded, glad that the story was over. He stayed silent for a moment.

"Alright. That sounds good."

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Ron."

"Why are you doing this?"

Ron sighed. "I need to know whether or not you're a Death Eater, Rebecca."

"A Death Eater!" Rebecca's eyes were fiery for a moment, and she seemed insulted. Ron didn't apologize, though.

"Well, yes. You don't know where you are, do you?"

"I don't, know," said Rebecca, still looking a little angry, but holding back.

"I'll check a few more things, and then I'll answer all the questions you want. First - would you roll up your sleeves, please?"

Rebecca looked confused, but complied. Ron checked her skin. As he had figured, no sign of a Dark Mark marred the uniformly pale skin on her arms.

"What are you checking for?"

"The Dark Mark," said Ron, and Rebecca looked shocked. "Every Death Eater is branded with it. Alright, that's pretty much all the tests we can do on you for now. For curiosity's sake, how old are you?"

"Sixteen," Rebecca replied, looking unsettled as she rolled down her sleeves. "Seventeen in three weeks. Where am I?"

"You are at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"The what?"

Ron smiled wryly. "We're an organization set up to fight Voldemort. We try all we can."

"Am I a member?"

Ron shook his head. "Not if you don't want to be. Besides, there are complications. You're still underage for instance."

"But I want to fight him!" Rebecca said, flaring up. "I'm of age in three weeks!"

"I'll see what I can do for you. No doubt you'll talk to McGonagall soon anyway. In the meantime, I suggest you get some rest, meet some people, have some fun. I'm around usually, just look for the tall guy with red hair. And if you can't find me, talk to Ginny, she's usually around. Looks like me, just shorter and prettier."

Rebecca laughed.

"Alright. Who's McGonagall?"

"Our head, ever since Dumbledore died."

"Did you know him?"

"Who?"

"Dumbledore?"

Ron was silent for a moment.

"Well enough, yeah."

"You were a prefect, right? I mean he picked you, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Ron said, surprised the girl would know such an obscure fact. "But everybody knew he just didn't want to add extra weight on to Harry."

Rebecca blushed for a moment, then looked down. "Alright."

Ron nodded. "See you around, Rebecca."

Ron was about to turn around and leave, but Rebecca's voice suddenly called him back.

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Just call me Ron."

"Ron, then," said Rebecca, seeming somewhat unnerved at being on first-name terms with him. "Just call me Becky."

Ron smiled. "Alright. I'll see you later today, alright?"

"Alright."

And Ron, feeling a little happy for the first time in a while, left the room with a smile still on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

ginny278 - Thanks for the review! This chapter's a little slow but you get to see your namesake a bunch at least.

"Chris, where's Ron?" said Ginny agitatedly. "I haven't seen him for two hours, and he can't have taken that long to interview the girl - can he?"

Chris shrugged. "I doubt it. Perhaps he's in his room?"

Ginny nodded, exasperated. "Yes, Chris, perhaps he is, but since I don't happen to be some kind of simpleton, I _have_ looked there already you know."

Chris flushed red. A naturally twitchy and nervous person, he only got more so when he was next to very pretty girls until he got accustomed to being with them, and Ginny was the only one he talked to on a regular basis. When he had seen Fleur for the first time, he had looked at his hands for the entire duration of the five minutes he was there and hadn't spoken for a full half-hour afterwards. It was quite funny, really, especially when Bill noticed and winked good-naturedly at Chris.

"Sorry - I mean I didn't mean - I didn't - not to imply that - I mean - well I don't know where he is, either, really, Gin."

Gin grinned apologetically.

"Sorry, Chris. No need to become -"

"Excuse me?" A soft but audible voice interrupted Ginny's comments. Ginny and Chris turned around to see a girl somewhere in her mid-teens.

"Hello," Ginny said pleasantly, extending a hand forward. She had an educated guess as to who this was already. She looked expectantly at Chris, but Chris didn't meet her gaze, as his was down at his shoes, and a rosy-tinged blush had already started to suffuse from his cheeks. Ginny stifled a laugh as the (very pretty) girl looked confusedly at Chris.

"What's your name?" Ginny asked, saving Chris the trouble of the girl's gaze.

"Oh! It's Rebecca, but call me Becky please. I'm sorry to intrude like this but Ron told me that I could talk to you if I wanted to and I didn't really know anyone -"

"Why of course you can!" said Ginny excitedly. Ron must have known that she would like a new girl companion. Ginny had been extremely disappointed to find out precisely how male-dominated the Order, on the whole, was. "Chris and I will show you the ropes - come on, Chris! I'm Ginny, by the way. Ginny Weasley. And this is Chris."Becky suddenly exclaimed. "Why, you're the man who saved me! Thank you so much, sir! Thanks!" She thrust her hand upon his and shook it vigorously, aware that a hug might be too forward. Chris took it and flushed bright red quickly, but all the same looked rather pleased, and finally managed to stutter something out.

"It was - it was the least I could do," Chris said, sighing and seeming a little relieved after Becky had stopped shaking his hand, but he flushed a brilliant red again as soon as she beamed at him excitedly. "I'm Chris, by the way." Ginny stifled her giggles when Chris shot her a death glare, and led the two along.

"The first thing you'll want is a tour. Feel free to ask any questions while I guide you," Ginny said, in her element of bossiness. Becky raised her eyebrows at Chris, who hacked his laughing off as a cough.

"Well...alright," said Becky, amused.

"This is the West Wing," said Ginny, gesturing majestically with her hand towards the corridor to her left. "That's the East. Down there, that's downstairs - there - no - right, that's the kitchen - and under is just the library. That's usually where we meet."

"Where who meets?" asked Rachel, curious.

"We. Us. The Order," said Ginny, failing to find the right representatives. "Or whoever's not on an assignment at the moment."

"Speaking of...am I part of the Order now, or what?" said Becky, searching for her place in the organization.

"Uh...I don't know, really. I mean, you're underage, aren't you?"

"I'm of age in three weeks."

"Well, you can't be until then...but obviously you'll have to stay here - I mean there's nowhere else for you to go, is there?" said Ginny.

Becky shook her head.

"We'll probably end up putting you to work eventually, but you won't be going on any assignments for quite a while. You'll need some training, and I suppose you never really completed your magical schooling, did you?"

"I was half-way through my last year before my school closed, so I know most of it. I did pretty well on my O.W.L.s," said Rachel defensively.

Ginny snorted. "Well, we'll evaluate you, and then we'll see how much we have to teach you. Well, uh, that's the tour," Ginny said, regretful that the Order Headquarters did not actually offer anything of particularly great mystique.

"Where am I?" Becky asked, realizing for the first time that geographically speaking, she had no idea where she was.

Ginny shrugged. "A good few miles away from London. We used to have our Headquarters there, but we had to relocate pretty fast. Swarming with Death Eaters all the time." Ginny sighed heavily. "So you're in a secluded old building that was abandoned before we came here, cleaned it up a little, and of course, made it invisible and all that, protections. Pretty good for short notice, but it's not exactly optimal. Still, it's better than Grimmauld Place...at least we don't have that painting..."

"What painting?" Chris and Becky asked at the same time, as Chris had joined after the relocation.

"Trust me, you don't want to know. Suffice it to say that there was a rather _unpleasant_ portrait at Grimmauld Place that was not removable. Ron!"

A tired-looking Ron had crossed their paths, holding a sheaf of parchment in his hand.

"Hey, Gin, Chris - Becky! I see you've met Gin."

"The shorter and prettier you," Becky confirmed. Ginny giggled for a moment, while Chris looked confused.

"She'll talk your head off if you let her though, you might want to watch out for that," said Ron.

"Surely you tease, brother."

"Surely," said Ron with an evident streak of sarcasm in his voice. "Anyway, I was just going to go see one of the higher-ups. I'll be back soon though."

"Should we come?" asked Ginny.

Ron waved his hand dismissively.

"McGonagall would only send you guys away if you did. By the way, Chris, if I get this plan approved, I was hoping you'd be part of the strike force - but of course you're not obligated."

"Of course I'll come," said Chris quickly, with a sidelong glance at Becky. "Glad to help."

Ron nodded. "Excellent. Although, I would prefer that you don't throw any hissy fights this time. Not all people are as tolerant as me."

"That was - I wasn't - oh damn," said Chris, protesting to Ron's retreating back. He turned and appealed to a giggling Ginny. "Now, he really needn't have said that!"

Ginny shrugged.

"I suppose not, but you can't deny it was funny."

"I very well can and will," Chris hissed under his breath vehemently. Ginny sighed dramatically and turned to Becky.

"So Becky, since there's not all that much to do at the moment, how about a game of chess?"

Becky nodded and the two, followed by a still grumbling and disgruntled Chris, went downstairs to pass the time.


	6. Chapter 6

ginny278 - Thanks a lot, your reviews are what keep me going for the time being!

It's worth noting that this story will go on a _temporary_ hiatus very soon for a few weeks as I leave. Sorry! I'll try to update with another chapter after this, but personally speaking, odds are slim. Well, this will give people time to catch up...sorry again, but what can you do. Here comes the chapter - please review!

"What did you think of her?" McGonagall asked impatiently. She didn't really think it was possible that the girl was some kind of security breach as a Death Eater - or that, if she was, she could be found out so easily in as few minutes as it took for Ron's cursory interview - but nevertheless, McGonagall's greatest worry was that there was always a traitor in the Order's midst, ever since the day that Severus Snape killed Dumbledore...she had never understood why Dumbledore always trusted him...the day that she found Snape would be the day he -

"Director?" Ron asked, clearly seeing that McGonagall wasn't paying any attention to Ron's response. McGonagall refocused quickly.

"Sorry, Weasley. If you would repeat..."

"Rebecca Cays seems a fine person to me. Decent, charming, genteel -"

"Very pretty," McGonagall interrupted, scanning Ron's face for any sort of indication that he was actually just distracted by the girl's beauty. She didn't really think this was the case, however - but one could never be too careful.

"Yes," Ron responded without a trace of embarrassment, alleviating McGonagall's fears. "Fairly intelligent, as well. She uh - she wants to join the Order."

"Out of the question. She's far too young."

"If you'll excuse me, Director, I don't think that's really fair to her."

"And why not, Mr. Weasley?"

"She's gone through far more than many other adults. I don't think age is really an indication of maturity, or magical ability, although I imagine she does need to be trained up a bit."

Ron's solemn words uneased her.

"Very well. I'll consider it. In the mean-time, who do you suggest 'trains her up'?"

"Ginny," Ron replied immediately. "Chris, as well, would be a good choice. She's met both already."

McGonagall nodded, unsurprised.

"That's how it'll be then. Anything else, Weasley?"

"Yes," Ron replied, tired. "I've drawn up the plans." Ron handed her the stack of papers in his hands. "As well as a prospective strike team."

McGonagall glanced at the names. The expected...Ginny Weasley...Christopher Galen...Ron Weasley, as Team Leader...Charlie Weasley...Fred Weasley...and Remus Lupin as Assistant Team Leader. McGonagall scanned the supplies, but she wasn't really expecting any points of contention. Ron's plans were usually strategically viable and very clever. The boy's knack for chess had manifested itself for the Order in the more practical application of battle strategy, and he had the necessary understanding of what was possible, what was risky, what was impossible, and what was worth the risks - the last of which was the most important, as the vast majority of Order leaders were usually too paralyzed by fear of failure and inaction to execute any daring plans - plans of the sort that were absolutely necessary, were the Order to have any sort of chance against the Dark Lord.

"Interesting...yes...well, it'll probably be approved. Proposed time?"

"Tomorrow night, I would say. Ten o'clock departure time."

McGonagall nodded. "Sounds reasonable. Well, I'll discuss it with Moody, but you can probably start getting your supplies from the twins tomorrow, and ask your strike force members if they wish to participate as soon as possible."

Ron nodded.

"Anything else, Operative Weasley?"

"No, Director."

"Very well. Dismissed. Good luck, if I don't see you tomorrrow."

Ron nodded in thanks and left.

"So, what's this strike force for?" Rebecca casually asked Chris as she moved a bishop, taking out one of Ginny's pawns. Chris opened his mouth, but quickly shut it as Ginny gave him a quelling look. She then glared at Becky.

"Nice try, but that's classified, at least for now. You're not even a member."

"So?"

"So..." Ginny hesitated. "So it's classified. No information out of Order operatives, and even then, only what's necessary. Technically, Ron should not have even told Chris that yet, especially not in front of you."

Becky waited a beat.

"I want to come."

"Out of the question," replied Ginny in rote without looking up.

"Why not?"

"You're too young, and more importantly, you wouldn't hold your own a second out there."

Rebecca flared up.

"I'm already sick of people telling me stuff like that! I bet I could hold my own against you!"

Ginny, whose temper was comparable to Ron's, or perhaps even worse now, immediately became angry, but quickly calmed down. However, she immediately got an idea to show Becky exactly how naive, and uneducated she was. Chris, who was quickly seeing where this was going, tried to intercede.

"Here - let's just try to keep this -"

"Oh yeah? How about a duel, then. Fair fight. Chris can be judge. First one who is unable to fight any longer loses."

"This _really_ isn't a good idea. I _really _don't think that this should be done. I mean, the sheer number of things that McGonagall would do to us if she found out -"

"Alright," said Rebecca, revealing a previously hidden competitive streak, and clearly insulted that everyone thought so little of her. "Let's go. You can lead the way."

Ginny got up firmly and shifted her ponytail, walking firmly up the stairs, as Becky followed close by. Chris looked around nervously for a moment, as if a Death Eater was about to pop up at his shoulder and attack him, then followed nervously, a little hunched and his eyes shifting every which way.

"I don't suppose," said Chris in a tremendously audible whisper, "that there's anything I can say that can dissaude you from doing this?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. "It's just a bit of fun, Chris. Relax. It'll do you good."

Ginny opened the door to a deserted room that was fairly spacious, then nodded and allowed Becky to go in first. The girls lined up in the middle of the room, a good ten paces away from each other, and raised their wands. Becky raised hers with a flourish and kept it pointed ramrod straight at Ginny at shoulder height, Ginny kept it closer to her body, and slightly extended. Chris shut the door quickly behind him, and desperately hoped that they wouldn't be caught.

"All right then...one...two...three -" Rebecca barely waited a moment after Chris counted off 'three' to launch her first spell.

_"Expelliarmus!"_ Becky yelled. A jet of light shot out of her wand and nearly hit Ginny. Chris was surprised at Becky's quickness, but her attack was also textbook obvious, and he had confidence that Ginny would dismiss it easily. Ginny waved her wand to cast the Shield Charm nonverbally, and it easily dismisssed the Disarming Charm. Becky didn't seem perturbed, and started to raise her wand to start another spell, but it was too late. Ginny had, with another nonverbal spell, waved her wand. The jet of light hit Becky, and blasted her off her feet. It must have been the Impediment Jinx, for as Becky started to get up, her movements were abnormally slow.

Becky waved her wand to cast the countercurse, and moved to the offense once more. Chris expected her to use a spell verbally, but it seemed that Becky had learned nonverbal spells as well. Becky waved her wand and as the spell moved towards Ginny, she conjured another simple Shield Charm to ward it off. However, the spell went right through the shield, to Ginny and Chris's surprise, and hit Ginny square. Chris looked for any effects on her, but it didn't seem to have any. Becky smiled supremely. Then Chris realized the effects - Ginny had been Confunded. Ginny's eyes were unfocused and she was shaking her head, as if punch-drunk. However, as Becky lowered her wand to deliver the final blow - presumably intended to be a Disarming Spell - Ginny visibly gave one terrific effort, wrenched her head up as if it took some amount of effort, and yelled an incantation out for the first time. Chris didn't hear it, but he could guess what it was before it hit Becky. Ginny was angry, and the spell she would use was sure to be -

Yeah, of course. The Bat Bogey Hex. Chris had always found the entire procedure of it rather distasteful, and looked away in annoyance as Ginny assumed a satisfied smirk as Becky waved fruitlessly at the Bat Bogeys. Chris figured that Ginny would just finish the duel and Disarm Becky, but Ginny seemed to prefer to watch Ginny suffer. Chris was on the verge of declaring the duel over and terminating the spell himself when suddenly the door slammed open, causing him to jump terrifically. Surely it was McGonagall, he thought, as most of the color seemed to drain out of Ginny's face as she glanced at the person who had entered. But as Chris turned around and looked, he saw, to his horror, that it was not McGonagall. It was someone far, far worse. Especially for Gin...

"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY!" Mrs. Weasley's high shriek echoed around the vast expanse of the room, which was guessed to be some kind of primitive dining room in its original use, as Chris somersaulted out of the way with a yelp and terminated the Bat Bogey Hex on Becky. Becky sent him a grateful look but quickly backed away to the wall upon sight of the angry woman at the door, who was approaching a shrinking Ginny. "_WHAT_ IS GOING ON HERE?"

Ginny gulped. "Well uh, me and - Becky here, were just having a friendly duel."

"Which is now terminated," Chris added in a high squeak. Mrs. Weasley gave him a glare that clearly told him to shut up, an order which he felt very obliged to comply to, and then she rounded on Ginny again. Becky started to shift over to Chris, glad that Mrs. Weasley's attention was clearly elsewhere.

"Having a friendly duel? _Having a friendly duel?_ You have been making such an _unholy racket_ that nobody can get a damn bit of work done!"

"Mom, did you just curse?" Ginny asked, amused.

"No," Mrs. Weasley said. "And don't change the subject. Challenging a girl to a duel because of your injured pride is _hardly_ a way to welcome her to the Order. By the way dear, you may go down to dinner at any time you wish. And you too, Chris. I set a place for you next to Chris and Ron after Ron told me about you here. Make yourself at home," Mrs. Weasley added in a kind tone in sharp contrast to the reproachful voice she was using on Ginny.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Chris whispered to Becky, and he grabbed her arm and led her out of the room as the argument continued, Ginny now having brought up the matter of her sudden lack of assignments.

Becky erupted into giggles as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Who is she?"

"That's Mrs. Weasley. I think of her as the 'Mom' of the Order," Chris said. "She's normally very kind and very sweet, and she'll mother you to death if you let her."

"Is she always like that?"

Chris shrugged. "Sometimes. Usually with Fred and George."

"Fred and George?"

"I'll leave the family introductions to Ron. Suffice it to say that Ron and Ginny are not by any means the only Weasleys in the Order."

Becky nodded. "So...can we eat? I'm starving."

"Alright."

Chris and Becky made their way to the kitchen, making pleasant conversation as they went along, Chris identifying members of the Order as they passed to Becky. Suddenly, as they approached, they saw Ron hurtle out of the kitchen, skidding to a stop next to them, white-faced.

"Chris, come on! Where's Ginny?"

"What is it Ron, what's wrong?"

Ron was abnormally pale, and looked panicked.

"There's been an attack!"


	7. Chapter 7

ginny278 - Thanks, as always, for the review.

Alright guys, off hiatus and a little rusty I imagine, so here goes...

Chapter 7

"An attack! What?" yelled Chris after Ron as he chased him.

Ron looked back, still abnormally pale. "The Dark Mark! Over Percy's house - it's been reported over Percy's house!"

Percy had eventually reconciled with the Weasley's after a near-fatal incident in the Great Battle, and currently lived with Penelope Clearwater, with whom he was engaged.

Chris nearly stopped dead. Surely Percy hadn't been killed?

Becky tugged on his sleeve.

"Who's Percy?"

"One of Ron's older brothers," Chris muttered to her. "Here, stay back, Ron and I are going there, right?"

Ron nodded. Becky seemed to be speaking up, most likely going to protest that she wanted to go as well, but wisely silenced herself, thinking that Ron didn't need the extra pressure.

"Before you do so, Mr. Galen," McGonagall said in her typical implacable manner as she swept in, "do take some precautions. Remus, Tonks, would you accompany them?"

A typically haggard Remus Lupin shuffled out of the silent crowd.

"Yes, of course."

"If you would go -"

"I'm coming too!" screamed Ginny as she hurtled down the stairs.

"And we assume you know that we're coming too," said Bill Weasley, flanked by Charlie, Fred, and George.

McGonagall restrained herself from sighing, well aware that restraining an entire family of Weasleys to running to another family member's aid was a Herculean task.

"Very well, are there any _other_ members of the Weasley family that would like to go along?"

"Er - we'll stay behind," said Mr. Weasley, who had become increasingly thin and grey, and who had his arms wrapped around a sobbing Mrs. Weasley.

"Alright. Ron, you're in charge. Haste is of the essence. Go," McGonagall said, looking weary and taking a mental head count. Fred looked as if he wanted to protest about Ron being the team leader, but was clouted on the head by Bill before he could.

Ron looked around, startled for a moment to realize that well over half the Order suddenly had all their eyes directed at him. He nodded for a moment, then ran out of the door and was quickly followed by the rest of the team.

"On three," Ron said. "One, two..."

Ron choked as he arrived at Percy's house. The air was smoky and thick, and parts of the house appeared to be on fire. Ron looked up and saw with the typical pulse of dread that there Ron conjured a mask and motioned for Bill and Remus to follow him.

"Split up and search for Percy and Penelope!" he yelled. "And put out the fire - regroup at the red sparks!"

Ron looked at the wooden door and broke it down with his shoulder as the team fanned out, aware that the doorknob would be too hot to the touch. The door splintered under his weight as he looked around frantically.

"Perce!" he yelled. "Penny! Anybody?"

For the first time, a thought struck him. _Who notified the Order of the attack?_

"Lupin," Ron said, turning around to him, "do you know how we were told about this?"

Lupin nodded. "Protection enchantments set off the alarm!" he yelled.

Ron nodded and turned around, still uneasy and wary of a trap. Still, it was obvious that Death Eaters had been here, and it was necessary that they investigate.

"Perce!" Bill yelled, stepping forward. "I'm going upstairs!" Bill notified Ron. Ron nodded and Bill walked up unsteadily, parts of the house collapsing as he went, putting out the fire with jets of water as he went.

_"Aguamenti!"_ Ron yelled, preventing the fire from spreading and burning his feet as a jet of water shot out. He motioned to Remus to follow him again, and went forward into the living room. Empty. Ron wiped his eyes, which had started to tear from the smoke, and looked around. It looked as if one of them had been captured here - scorch marks, furniture knocked over, skid marks, and a door off it's hinges. Ron shot another jet of water at a picture of Penny and Percy at the Hogwarts lake and pocketed it, hoping desperately that it wouldn't have to accompany two gravestones.

"There's nothing up there, Ron," Bill said, reappearing. "Anything down here?"

Ron shook his head, feeling his eyes tear up again, though he wasn't sure if that was because of the smoke.

"We should go," Remus suggested. "This place is about to fall down."

_This place._

Ron felt numb, but his war instincts guided him out. _They can't be dead. _He sent up red sparks from his wand, and in a moment, the rest of the team Apparated in.

"Anybody find them?" Ron asked hopelessly.

Ginny shook her head, looking desperate. "Did you?"

Ron choked. "No." There was a moment of silence. Everybody knew that they were either captured or dead. _Too late. Too late, again._

"Count off," said Ron, looking down steadfastly at the ground, feeling a rage well up in his chest.

"Bill here."

"Lupin's here."

"Fred here."

"Charlie here."

"Chris here."

"Ginny here."

"Tonks here."

A silence. Ron knew there was something wrong with that count off. They all realized it at the same moment.

"Where's George?"

Becky wandered around the lonely mansion, aware of the deadened silence only broken by the wracked crying of Mrs. Weasley growing fainter as he guided her away. The Order slowly dissipated, most of them going back to finish lunch. Becky felt sick to her stomach, though. Just weeks ago, she had been a regular teenage witch, living happily in the city, and then _he _had come and torn her life apart, and was tearing other people's lives apart to. She found herself wandering aimlessly until she finally arrived at the makeshift Hospital Wing, seeing Madame Pomfrey bustling around the area. The first bed was the one that caught her eye. Although the woman in the bed wasn't beautiful, though she certainly wasn't ugly, the trait that caught her eye wasn't her looks, it was her expression of determination, and of power, far from the wrecks that this war had turned most people into. Becky looked at the woman for a moment, noting her abnormally bushy brown hair, her unsettling wandering eyes, her twitching hands, and her murmuring mouth. Her eyes wandered up to a paper that labeled the patient.

**GRANGER, **it spelled, in clear bold letters.

Suddenly, comprehension struck as she realized that this was not just any random patient, this was the remaining third of the trio, _Hermione Granger_, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Do you need something?" A kindly, but stern voice immediately attracted her attention. It was the nurse that Ginny had labeled Madame Pomfrey.

"Sorry," Becky apologized hastily. "I just - is she - what's wrong with her?"

Pomfrey sighed, and started fingering the spines of thick healing books on a wardrobe nearby.

"Couldn't tell you precisely. Read this," she said, thrusting a large encyclopedic book labeled _Advanced Medical Theory, Part Seven, for the Aspiring Healer_, to Becky, who took it, surprised at the weight. "Look up 'Tarpist's Theorem'," she added after a moment, seeing Becky's bewildered expression.

Becky laid the book down on the edge of Hermione Granger's bed and went to the index, then found it.

_Tarpist's Theorem_

_Tarpist's Theorem, named after the wizard that formulated it, John L. Tarpist, was formulated in 1795 after he observed the rather odd effects of multiple spells which collide on a single target, namely a person or sentient creature, can have. These effects were variable and the causes only had one constant: one of the spells was perpetually a Stunning Spell. However, there are an infinite amount of combinations._

_Tarpist proposed that the effects of multiple spells, when one of them was a Stunner, usually resulted in the target going into a catatonic state, often suffering through feverish and disturbing hallucinations, showing signs of life and occasionally even awareness, or sometimes simply lying as if dead. Tarpist's Sleep, as it is now referred to, can last for as long as a lifetime or as short as a mere few days. Once awoken, the victims will suffer from various side effects, which are unpredictable due to the different combinations of spells._

_This is also the same reason that there is no one cure for Tarpist's Sleep, and although there have been a few isolated cases of somebody being awoken by a complex and newly derived potion (see Tarpist's Cures, page 897), the vast majority of victims to Tarpist's Sleep will either awake naturally or die during the course of it._

Becky raised her head and put the textbook down, gazing at the sleeping figure again.

"Tried every known cure before that has worked," Pomfrey explained, "but none worked."

"What was -?"

"The combination of spells? Can't know for sure. There was only person that saw it as it happened - poor Mr. Weasley, that is - and he couldn't be sure of the exact spells. Too much going on, you see. Nevertheless, she's lucky she's not dead, and she has Mr. Weasley to thank for that, again."

"Which one? Ron?"

Pomfrey nodded. Becky, though, was lost in thought, remembering countless news reports of the heroic trio before Voldemort took over that had appeared in various magazines such as _Witch Weekly_, that often spoke of romantic links between the two 'side-kicks' of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley.

"Is he -?" Becky started to ask, but feeling slightly ashamed, as if she was prying. "Is he in love with her?" she finished more quietly.

Pomfrey glanced up, and paused for a moment, then appropriated a stern face.

"It's not mine or your place to know," she said sharply.

"Sorry," Becky said, thinking that this probably meant 'yes'.

Pomfrey sighed. "Yes, I'm sure. Now, you shouldn't be hanging around here anyway - Miss -?"

"Cays. Rebecca Cays."

Pomfrey nodded. "I'm sure you can find something to do."

Becky nodded, although she strongly doubted that she could, as Ginny, Chris, and Ron were all out and she didn't know anybody else in the Order. Nevertheless, she walked slowly over to the lunch room, and sat down, feeling very lonely as she saw the chattering other members of the Order.

"Mind if I join you?" a distinctly Irish voice said. Becky looked up. There was a fairly attractive man hovering over her, with sandy hair and an Irish accent.

"Sure," she said, gesturing to the seat next to her.

"Seamus Finnigan," Seamus said, offering a hand in greeting.

"Rebecca Cays."

"So, you're new here, right?" Seamus inquired as he ate some treacle tart.

"Yes. I just got here - early today, in fact."

"That's what I thought. You're the girl Ron and Chris found, right?"

Rebecca burned to think of the image this phrase presented - she hated to think she was _rescued_ - but knew it was true anyway.

"Uh...yes."

"Dangerous situation, you were in, Rebecca," Seamus added. "Survived more than I ever could have at your age."

"At my age?" Rebecca asked. "You're not all that much older than me, I think."

Seamus shook his head. "No, but I've learned a lot since then. I reckon you've got less to learn than I did, is all I mean."

"Well, perhaps."

"So, who do you know around here, then?"

"Well, I've met Ron, Ginny, and Chris."

Seamus stared for a moment. "You mean, you haven't been introduced to anybody?"

"Well, not anybody _else_, no. Oh, and Madam Pomfrey."

Seamus laughed. "Well, she's not the best company for someone like you, is she?"

"I guess not."

"Time to introduce you - are you done there?" Becky nodded and had barely finished before Seamus grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her up, startling her. Seamus brought her to two young men who looked to be about his age.

"These fine men are Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, making up two of the integral parts of the Gryffindor Crew. Miss Rebecca Cays, gentlemen," Seamus said.

"The Gryffindor Crew?" Rebecca asked.

"Pleased to meet you," the two men chorused as they shook her hand.

"The Gryffindor Crew," Seamus confirmed. "Composed of myself, Ron, Dean, Neville - and er, Harry, before he - you know -"

There was an awkward silence.

"Any girls in the Gryffindor Crew?" Rebecca asked, painfully aware of the silence. Everybody visibly loosened at the prompting.

"Why of course, no crew's any good with lovely ladies. We have Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley, even though she's in the year below, and - uh, Hermione Granger, before she -"

There was another awkward silence.

Neville looked at the time and yelped.

"Bloody hell, I'm late! McGonagall's going to skin me!" Neville leaped off, leaving Rebecca with her eyebrows raised, and looked back to see an unsurprised Dean and Seamus.

"He's usually late," Seamus illuminated. "For as long as I can remember. Either he's late or something lost." Dean chortled, then began to get up.

"I better get going, then, as well."

"Alright, see you, Dean," Seamus said, then sat down.

"Er..." Rebecca stammered as she sat down next to him, looking around at the other members that seemed to be drifting around the building. "Is that the Order, then?"

Seamus started. "Well, that's a good portion of the people worth meeting. But introductions to the _entire_ Order would take quite a while. It's not that it's particularly large, but simply that everybody's always _doing_ something, so it's bloody hard to get any time to talk to them. In any case, there's no one here more interesting to talk to than me, I assure you."

Rebecca giggled. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Some Exploding Snap, then? It's awfully dull around here if you're not on some life-endangering mission, but I try to liven things up occasionally, though that's tough without Fred and George around."

"Alright, then," said Becky, who was beginning to like Seamus quite a lot.


	8. Chapter 8

ginny278 - Thanks for the review!

Chapter 8

Remus Lupin stared helplessly at the heartbroken face of Mrs. Weasley as she wailed.

"Percy - not my Percy - or _Penny­ _- and now _George _­- oh, Arthur!" She collapsed into Mr. Weasley, who was looking grim and extremely worried.

Arthur mouthed silently over to Remus - 'no sign'?

Remus shook his head apologetically, then left, downhearted. He had found out years previously that Mrs. Weasley's boggart was members of her family (or Harry, later on) dead, and although it sounded callous to say it, it was almost certain to happen eventually that members of the Weasley family would be lost in the war. Not that Remus believed they were dead - or at least, not all of them. They would pump them for information first, as all three were members of the Order. And then, Remus thought, they would probably kill them, and deliver the corpses somewhere public where the Order was sure to find them, not so much out of respect as out of cruelty. It was an increasing phenomenon to find Order members' dead bodies, their faces contorted in pain, sometimes with visible injuries, though not often, as most Death Eaters simply preferred the Cruciatus Curse to inflict pain.

The only other possibility by which they would remain alive is if Voldemort tried to use them for ransom. This, though, was a false hope. The Order didn't have anything to give Voldemort, and they were losing the war. The only things Voldemort really wanted was Order members, dead, so the only offer he would proffer would be to trade the three Weasleys for another, more prominent, Order member - most probably Ron, or Hermione.

The entire situation, though, had become increasingly prominent among the Order. Order members that didn't live in the new Order headquarters of the mansion were sought out and killed, no matter how many charms and protections were put on them, and no matter how fast the Order came. There was an increasing movement for every Order member to use a Fidelius Charm on their house, and it was being put into movement. However, if this happened, then no Order member could ever go out of their house, thus rendering them useless, and unless they moved to another house, the Death Eaters already knew where they were and where the house was, even if it was hidden from sight. Particularly crippling, in Remus's opinion, although there was obviously no way to prove this, was Snape's intimate knowledge of the Order membership. This meant that new members were safer, but older members were in constant danger if they didn't move into the mansion. Another problem was that the mansion was fast running out of space, even with people sharing rooms, as it wasn't a millionaire's mansion, and they didn't have sufficient food for everybody either. Safety was a logistical nightmare for McGonagall these days.

Remus saw Ron storm in, the last of the team to come out. He guessed that Ron had probably been outside, walking his frustration off. Incredibly dangerous to do, perhaps, and certainly not something that McGonagall would have condoned, but when Ron was in a temper - as he almost certainly would be now - it was best to just leave him to his own devices, since he didn't have either Harry or Hermione to talk to now.

Ron came up to him.

"Where's the Director?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Minerva's in her office," Remus said, gesturing.

Ron swept by without thanking. Remus sighed, thinking of the change that nine years had wrought in Ronald Weasley, from the thirteen-year old boy he had known and taught.

Minerva McGonagall heard three door-shaking knocks and knew who it would be.

"Come in, Mr. Weasley," she said, then sighed inaudibly. She had already heard the results, but both she and Ron knew that no matter what, she must know any additional information.

"Tell me about this mission, Mr. Weasley."

"We left. I took Remus and Bill with me to search the house, which was on fire, and told everybody else to fan out and look around. When Bill, Remus, and I came out, without finding anything of significance, I shot up red sparks. Everybody returned except George. We searched for him, but we couldn't find him. All we know is that he was lost somewhere around the forest."

"Anything else?"

"No."

McGonagall paused and searched Ron's face. It was expressionless, but intentionally, it was clear that it was taking some effort for him to keep under control. She thought of perhaps offering to talk, but figured it would do no good, and might only anger him.

"Very well, Mr. Weasley. Dismissed until further notice."

Ron swept out without any further niceties.

George Weasley came to life to realize he was suspended in the air. _Where am I?_ He tried to move his head and look at his surroundings, but found he couldn't. His eyes, however, could still look around, but his vision was too limited to see anything but a low ceiling, dimly lit. He started trying to figure out where he was by retracing his steps, but found this inconclusive. The last thing he could remember was being near the edge of the forest, following a set of footsteps in - then a flash of light and darkness.

Of course, the Death Eaters must have caught him. But where was he now? Why was he still alive? Was he being taken to Voldemort?

He heard one pair of footsteps ahead of him. His jailor, must be. He could also tell that wherever he was, it was unpleasant, as it smelled terrible. He doubted Voldemort would stand for such unsavory conditions, wherever he was. Perhaps it was some sort of prison.

Suddenly, he came to a stop (not any more under his control than the rest of his floating movement was). The spell was abruptly taken off without warning, and the Death Eater didn't bother to put George in a more comfortable position before arresting the spell, so George tumbled to the ground, landing painfully on his back.

_"Oomph!"_

"Get up," The Death Eater snarled. George got a glimpse of the man. He was fat, and tall, and clearly not one of the Death Eater's finest. Probably just a guard of some sort. The Death Eater grabbed George by the scruff of his neck and flung him to the ground on the cell.

"Got a new roommate - hope you two get along," the Death Eater snarled with a note of malice in his voice, and for some reason, George felt, a sense of irony. "Filthy Weasley," the man muttered quite audibly as he left.

George realized that the man hadn't been talking to him as he looked around. He was in a filthy, fairly small cell, with an iron door and brick walls everywhere. He wasn't, alone, however, as he saw another man crouched along the wall. His head was down, and his knees were up, so George couldn't recognize him, but he thought he might be an Order member, or at least somebody on the good side. All he could tell was that the man had been here a long time - his hair and clothes were indescribably filthy.

The man raised his head, and as he saw George, a feral grin came onto his face. George couldn't recognize him, but he could see more of his face now. He had a beard as well, which wasn't in a much better state than the rest of him was. The man didn't say anything, so George thought that he would probably have to initiate conversation.

"I'm George Weasley," George said, and proffered his hand to the man. The man didn't take it, but his smile only seemed to increase.

"I know."

George was bewildered. He knew? Should he recognize this man?

"Do I - know you?"

"A long time ago," the man spat. George couldn't help but feel that there seemed to be something familiar in that voice - something he couldn't quite place.

"Where am I?" asked George, deciding that perhaps he better solve the man's mystery identity after he figured out his situation out.

"You are, Weasley," the man said, standing up as if he hadn't in a very long time, "in the wonderful Death Eater prison - of Azkaban."

Dread suffused George as he remembered that Voldemort had captured Azkaban soon after he had attacked London. He panicked and looked around - he hadn't seen any Dementors around, and he certainly didn't feel their effects, though he felt almost as if he could catch the slight feeling of the dread they induced.

"No," the man said, reading George's thoughts, "no dementors here any more. Not often, anyway. They're used more to torture Voldemort's enemies, or Muggles."

The man spat the word _Muggles_, and for the first time, a crazy thought entered George's head - it couldn't be - but his voice -

"Come into the light," George said, hoping that he was wrong.

But he wasn't, he realized, as the man came into the light. He was older, and looked it, his hair was longer and darker and much dirtier, and he had a beard, but George could still recognize him.

"_Malfoy_," said George, his previously affable tone turning much less so. "I thought you were dead."

Draco Malfoy grinned back - a haunted, demented grin that gave George the impression that he had been through some terrifying experiences since the time anybody had last seen him.

"No," Malfoy said in a low hiss, his previous drawling voice all but gone. "Not yet."


	9. Chapter 9

ginny278 - Thanks for the review. Very prompt, as always.

Chapter 9

_"Ron!" Harry yelled. "I want you - to cover me - I'm going to - Expelliarmus! - going to attack - the giant!"_

_Ron nodded and flourished his wand, disarming a Death Eater that was coming at Harry's back, and, with another flick and muttered incantation, sending a Death Eater motionless to the ground, stunned. He was used to combat, although he couldn't pretend that he was used to battles on such a colossal scale like this._

_He felt a shiver of dread and knew the feeling immediately. Spinning around, he found himself face to face with a dementor that was trying to come up on him from behind. Thinking of the time he had won the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor, he yelled 'Expecto Patronum' and the now-familiar silver Jack Terrier came out and sent the Dementor away, flailing. Ron turned around without a second thought to see Harry beckoning Hermione and Remus Lupin over to him to help out. He saw Harry direct them and then count down - three - two - one - and then three jets of red light shot out at the giant's head simultaneously. It toppled to the ground, the combined three powerful spells overcoming the giant's natural protection from magical spells. Ron Stunned and roped up two Death Eaters that were pursuing the trio as they came back for cover._

_"We're falling back," remarked Ron to Harry and Hermione as they returned. "I didn't think there'd be so many."_

_"Nobody did," Hermione gasped._

_"Maybe they're Imperiused," Harry suggested._

_"I don't think so. Watch out!" Remus yelled, as he stunned another Death Eater that had been about to use the Killing Curse on Hermione._

_"Thanks."_

_"This is no time for chit-chat," Harry snapped, although of course he was right. "Where's Gin? - we keep getting split up."_

_"She's over there," Ron pointed, and they saw her, Neville, and Seamus fighting fiercely for their life, with Dean coming up to reinforce them._

_"Divide and conquer," Ron murmured. "They're splitting us up and beating us with numbers."_

_"We've got to stick together," said Harry. "Come on!"_

_Without any further debate, he sped off and launched himself at the Death Eater group that was taking down Ginny, Neville, and Seamus. Ron and Hermione struggled to keep up as Remus went to help McGonagall, who was fighting a pair of Death Eaters alone._

_Harry came up to Ginny as she dispatched the last Death Eater._

_"Are you alright?" Harry said._

_"I'm fine," she said, unruffled. "And would you watch yourself and not run up like a lunatic? I don't want you getting hit."_

_Harry grinned, feeling as if he hadn't done so in days. This battle had raged for hours and showed no signs of stopping. Death Eaters seemed to be reinforcing themselves and were always revived whenever they took them down, as the Order didn't kill them. _

_Harry, Ron, and Hermione had finally destroyed the Horcruxes a year ago - even the one that was in Grimmauld Place, put there by Regulus Black, or RAB - and Voldemort was finally vulnerable. But they couldn't get to him. Finally, they had discovered a Death Eater camp and ambushed it, but there were more than anticipated, and they had raised the alarm. They didn't have time to Apparate out once the fight started, nor could they, as there were too many Order members that Death Eaters might have captured, or that might still be alive lying on the floor._

_Harry felt a pang at his scar._

_"He's coming," he said to Gin, low, "very soon."_

_Ginny looked worried._

_"Look, Harry," she said. "If you don't think you can, then you should go. I think we're winning this battle now - we can get out of here - do it later -"_

_"No!" argued Harry fiercely. "I'll never have a better shot. He's getting stronger, Gin, and so are his forces."_

_"I'll back you up whatever you do, Harry," Gin said, in a rare sentimental moment. "You know that."_

_"Hey!" Ron yelled. "Some help, here?" He and Hermione were facing down a giant and a pair of dementors._

_"On three - one - two - Stupefy!" Four voices yelled out in chorus as the giant toppled, and four Patronuses immediately shot out of their wands to take down the two dementors, who let out horrific shrieks as they ran away. Neville and Seamus had long gone off to assist Dean, Moody, and Charlie._

_Suddenly, Harry's scar erupted in pain. He collapsed to the ground for a moment, then got up with great effort._

_"Are you all right?" Ginny yelled, looking more concerned than she ever had._

_Harry gritted his teeth. "There he is."_

_The man who had haunted his dreams for years and changed the course of his life was wreaking havoc with a surprise attack. Nobody had expected him to show up, except for Harry. Order members fell back, as they didn't have the power to compete._

_"I need you three to protect me while I fight him," Harry yelled to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The three nodded. "I don't think you'll have much trouble. He wants to take me alone anyway - take care of each other."_

_Harry looked in Ginny's eyes for what felt like a long moment - then sprinted off, with his friends a short distance behind him, battling Death Eaters._

_"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled, not expecting it would do much. It didn't, of course, as Voldemort dodged it with ease. The two locked in mortal combat without a word to each other._

_"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled at the same time as Harry tried to disarm him again. The spells connected in mid-air again, and the same thing happened as had happened in the graveyard, when Harry was nearly fifteen. Voldemort, however, had no interest on maintaining the connection, and with a great effort, wrenched the wand away, breaking the connection and nearly splitting both their wands in two. They stayed together, however._

_"Stupefy!" Harry yelled, trying to weaken him before attempting the finishing spell. Voldemort conjured a shield at just the right moment and then flicked his wand, saying something low. Harry's bones and muscles exploded in pain, and he knew he had fallen victim to the Cruciatus Curse. He kept his grip on the wand tight, however, and as soon as Voldemort arrested the spell to deliver the Killing Curse, Harry blasted Voldemort off his feet and five feet away. He jumped up._

_This is it. This is the moment._

_"Avada Kedavra!" Harry yelled, hoping that it would hit. It didn't. Voldemort rolled to the side, anticipating Harry's move._

_Ron ducked two Stunners that flashed right over his head, then Disarmed one Death Eater and jinxed another._

_"Finish that one off, will you, Hermione?" She smiled grimly and used the full Body Bind on the man, incapacitating him. Ron summoned both their wands and snapped them under his feet. There was no way they'd be able to fight again in this battle._

_"Good idea, Ron," Hermione said._

_Ginny was doing some fighting with the Death Eaters, but most of the time, was watching Harry battle with Voldemort. Harry had grown immensely in power and was now Voldemort's equal, but that didn't necessarily mean he would win, and Ginny felt a sense of dread. She believed in Harry, though, so she wrenched her eyes away and tried to help Ron and Hermione fight, then spotted Hagrid having difficulty fighting an actual giant, and rushed off to help him._

_Ron had turned his back on Hermione for a moment to fight a dementor when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, at least three or four jets of light converge on the same spot. Dreading what had happened, he immediately dispatched the dementor and turned around, saw three or four Death Eaters. He ducked and rolled, missing all four spells, and sent a Stunner at one. He disarmed another one, but was about to be killed by a third when the man suddenly fell down, Stunned. The fourth Death Eater only had time to look surprised when Seamus stunned him too, and snapped all four's wands._

_"Is she alright?" Seamus said, pointing to Hermione, but Ron had already run to her side._

_"Hermione! Hermione - wake up!" Ron yelled, tears blurring his vision. It couldn't be._

_Ron checked for a pulse, and was overjoyed to find one there._

_"Ennervate," he said calmly, expecting that she had simply been Stunned and needed to be revived. It didn't work, however._

_"Ennervate. Ennervate! God damn it!" Ron yelled. He threw Hermione over his shoulder and motioned to Seamus._

_"Cover me. She's alive but badly hurt, somehow."_

_Seamus nodded and jogged back with Ron, who was surprised at how light Hermione was. They watched low before slipping behind far enough to not be a target._

_"Where's Mum?" Ron said._

_"Here!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Oh no - not Hermione -"_

_"Yes. Mum, can you take her back to Headquarters? Can you Apparate that far?"_

_Mrs. Weasley nodded._

_"Ron - are you all right - is Harry - I've heard that You-Know-Who -"_

_"Just go!" Ron yelled. "He's alright, for now, I've gotta go help him."_

_Ron ran out without another word. Seamus shrugged apologetically and went out to follow him, and Mrs. Weasley Apparated back to the Headquarters, which would be deserted but for Madam Pomfrey._

_Ron saw Ginny fighting a Death Eater and Stunned him immediately. Ginny nodded thankfully, but then their eyes were all drawn to one point._

_Harry threw off a fourth Imperius Curse, but wasn't ready for the spell that followed._

_"Expelliarmus!" Voldemort yelled, and Harry was blasted off his feet, and his wand flew into Voldemort's hand._

_Voldemort swooped over to Harry like a bird of prey, and menaced over him for a second, relishing the moment he had longed for for years._

_"Goodbye, Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra!"_

_Harry turned his head to see Ginny as his last memory, then there was a flash of green light, and then only darkness for the Boy-Who-Lived._

"Ron! Ron!"

"Wha...what? What time is it?" Ron woke up, sweating, at 4:30, being shaken awake by somebody he couldn't identify in his drowsiness. As he came to slowly, he realized that it was actually just Ginny.

"Why did you wake me up, Gin?" Ron asked, but one look at her face and he realized that something serious was happening. "What's wrong?"

"Ron - I think - Hermione's waking up."


	10. Chapter 10

WeasleyGirl09 - Thanks a lot for the review! I had some struggle writing the Final Battle, so it's good someone liked it...or at least found it interesting.

ginny278 - Thanks for the review! I wrote it with the intention that Ron was having a nightmare about it.

Chapter 10

Ginny had rarely seen Ron get up so quickly.

"What!" Ron yelled.

"Shut up, Ron," Ginny hissed vehemently. "People are trying to sleep here."

Ron mumbled an apology.

"Look away, I only have boxers on," Ron directed Ginny. Ginny averted her eyes as Ron threw on some jeans and a tattered t-shirt, then barreled down the stairs without waiting for her. Ginny followed right behind.

Madame Pomfrey was tending to a flushed and sweating Hermione when the door slammed open to see, of course, Ron Weasley. Ron spared a glance for Pomfrey, but his eyes immediately went to Hermione.

"How is she? What's happening?" Ron asked Pomfrey while rushing over next to the bed.

"She's waking up," Pomfrey said. "But it doesn't appear to be immediate...perhaps if a loved one's voice...are her parents here?"

"They were Muggles," Ron said, his voice becoming much more sombre. "But they were killed over a year ago."

"You do it, Ron, you talk to her," Ginny suggested. Ron flushed but was glad that it was dark. He bent his head down closer to hers.

"Hermione," he said. "Hermione, it's Ron. Come on, Hermione, wake up. It's as if she's in a nightmare," Ron directed at Pomfrey.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she is."

Hermione was feverish, her lips were trembling, her eyes were fluttering open and shut, and she was rolling around slightly in her bed.

"Ron..." she murmured. Ron's breath was caught. She had heard him... "Don't - it hurts -" Hermione screamed suddenly, causing everybody to jump. Other patients in the wing stirred. Pomfrey looked flustered, but Ginny immediately drew her wand.

_"Silencio!"_ she said immediately, and Hermione's screams didn't sound any more, though it was clear that she was still going through a horrible experience. In a way, it was far more traumatizing than hearing the screams themselves.

_"Hermione!"_ Ron said with unusual intensity, gripping her shoulders. "Come on - you can make it - can't you do anything?"

Pomfrey shook her head. "There are no potions. Victims of Tarpist's Theorem - "

"- have to wait until they wake up naturally, yes," Ron snapped, obviously knowledgeable about the subject. Ginny's face was a mask of anguish and hope. Was there a possibility that Hermione, so close to waking, would now die? After all this time...

Hermione's screaming started to subdue itself, then suddenly, it stopped abruptly, and her eyes opened with a lucidity that they hadn't possessed previously.

Ginny lifted the Silencing Charm, hoping that this was a sign that she had now awoken.

"Hermione," Ron repeated again with anguish. "Talk to me."

There was a beat of silence, then finally -

"Ron," Hermione choked, then she burst into tears and pulled him right down to her, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder.

"Hermione - you're awake?"

"Ron, I can't remember - for such a long time," Hermione sobbed. "What - what's happened to me? I don't think I can see..."

Ginny stiffened with surprise, but Ron didn't seem to be surprised.

"It's a common effect for those who are victims of Tarpist's Sleep, your vision will regain soon," Ron explained. "At least...it does with most of the people who suffer from the side effect."

Hermione gasped. "Tarpist's...how long have I been out? And - oh Ron! - what happened to Harry? Did we win?"

Ron nearly cried to see the hopeful expression on Hermione's face.

"You've been out for a little over five months." Ron shuddered. "Harry - he's - Harry's dead." Ron felt tears sting his eyes and angrily brushed them away.

Hermione gasped, horrified. "No - he can't be -"

"Voldemort killed him," Ron said, choking. "Soon after you were hit."

"What - what's happened to me?"

"Don't worry about it," Ginny hushed, finally giving in to the incredibly strong temptation to speak.

"Ginny?"

"Yes. Hermione - are you alright?"

"Mostly," Hermione said, but a shudder betrayed her real thoughts. "I've had - nightmares - they're terrible -"

"It's okay, Hermione," said Ginny. "You're awake now."

"But you should get some sleep," said Ron. "And _real_ sleep, now. We can talk later in the morning."

"Ron - what time is it?"

"It's 4:45 in the morning."

"Oh - well - I do feel very tired - but I need to know what's happening -"

"Drink this," Madame Pomfrey finally said, interrupting Hermione. "You're very tired and worn out. You need a nice, long, rest."

"What is this?" asked Hermione. "Dreamless sleep?"

"Yes."

Hermione shakily fumbled with the potion, as she hadn't regained any of her sight yet, and drank deeply from it. She fell asleep nearly instantly.

Ron gazed at her expression for a while, before Madame Pomfrey stopped his reverie.

"You should get your sleep, too, Mr. Weasley. And you, Miss Weasley. You're both very tired."

Ron looked as if he was about to disagree but left anyway, followed by Ginny.

"I couldn't sleep a bit," Ron confessed to Ginny, his voice unnaturally full of emotion. "I feel - too awake."

"Yes," Ginny agreed.

They paused for a moment.

"Some tea, perhaps?" Ron suggested.

Ginny giggled. "Alright."

The two were going into the kitchen when the front door crashed open, and two colossal steps were heard. It wasn't uncommon for operatives to enter in the night, so Ron and Ginny turned around, unsurprised, and were delighted at who they saw.

"Hagrid!" the two exclaimed in unison, and rushed over to meet him. Hagrid chuckled as they came and said hi to him, Ginny with a hug, Ron with a more masculine handshake.

"We didn't know you'd be coming back yet, Hagrid!" Ginny exclaimed.

Hagrid was most often out on diplomatic missions to giants that had not yet chosen a side, or trying to convince giants to turn over to their side. He was, unfortunately, mostly unsuccessful.

"Well, I don't make a point of telling people when I'm coming back, now," Hagrid grunted. "I'm bloody hungry, though, yeh know."

"Well, come on then," Ron remarked. "But Hagrid - you should know - Hermione's just woken up!"

"She has?" Hagrid said, startled. "Can I -?"

"No," said Ginny, glumly. "She's sleeping."

Hagrid looked perplexed. "But I thought yeh said -"

"I mean, she's sleeping regularly. She hasn't had a proper sleep in months."

"Oh," said Hagrid, though he looked unsure. "Well, alrigh'. I shoulda thought you guys woulda been asleep otherwise, eh?"

"We don't normally make a point of getting up this early, no," Ron confirmed. "Anyway, come on, we're about to have some tea."

"Ahh..." Hagrid sighed contentedly. "Been a good while since I had some good food."

"Well, we've got leftovers from yesterday's dinner," said Ginny. "Some steak sound good to you?"

"If your Mum's cooked it, anything's good to me," Hagrid said.

Ginny prepared some tea while Ron pillaged the kitchen to find enough food for Hagrid, who ate quite a lot, naturally.

"This enough, Hagrid?"

"Fer starters."

Ron chuckled. "Anyway, how was your mission?"

Hagrid shook his head, disappointed. "Grawp an' I got one more on our side, but most of them didn' want ter listen."

"That's a shame, Hagrid," Ginny consoled.

"But what about Hermione, now? Yeh said she's better?"

"She is," Ron confirmed. "For the most part. There are...side effects to her kind of injury. Right now, all we know is that she's suffering blindness. Which is usually temporary, in these spells," Ron hastened to add when Hagrid looked alarmed.

"Usually," Hagrid mumbled. "Be terrible if she were blind, now."

"Yes," said Ron sadly.

"She was only awake for moments," said Ginny. "She woke and talked to us for a minute, then Pomfrey gave her a Sleeping Potion."

"D'yeh know when she'll wake up?"

"Er..." Ron glanced at Ginny. "Tonight, I think."

"I'll still be here, then," Hagrid said. "But - we'll have ter tell her all that's happened since she -"

"Yes," said Ginny. "We already told her about - about Harry, but she doesn't know anything else."

"She's in for a righ' shock, then, I think."

Ron brooded and looked off into the distance while Ginny and Hagrid chatted, thinking that Hermione couldn't possibly get up fast enough.

"I'm surprised You-Know-Who didn't kill you," said George in an unfriendly manner. Though Draco Malfoy may not be on the side of the bad guys any more, he certainly wasn't one of the good guys.

Draco shrugged. "He could have. Most thought he would. My mother might have convinced the Dark Lord to keep me alive, but I'm useful for him anyway."

George looked perplexed.

"No, not missions, Weasley! _Information!_ I spent years with Potter and his two sidekicks in school - you think I didn't learn anything?"

George shrugged. "So why not pump you for information, then kill you?"

Draco sighed. "Like I said, my mother might have had something to do with it. Perhaps he's thinking of sending me on some kind of suicide mission. I haven't seen him for a long time though."

This struck George as odd. Surely You-Know-Who had been in the prison, or had interrogated him?

"How long?"

"Months. The last time I was tortured by him personally was before he killed off Potter. I suppose he had finished his goal, by then, so..." Draco shrugged. "He'll win, I guess. Doesn't need me any more."

George started surveying his surroundings, trying to keep his distance from Draco, who seemed slightly unhinged. He was in a fairly small, and uncomfortable, cell, with an iron door at the front and then a filthy stone wall all around. The only light there filtered through the small windows that the Ministry had installed before the Death Eaters had taken over, but it was a sickly light, not from the outdoors but from an unpleasant indoor light. The air was foul and smelled it. George didn't even want to think about the food.

Unfortunately, he couldn't see any of the neighboring cells out of the window, and he imagined that each cell had sound-proof charms on it. There would be no way to tell what other prisoners were here - or if Perce and Penny were here as well. They could even be in the cell next door, George thought angrily, pummeling his fist on the wall.

"There's no escape from here," Draco said softly, clearly reading the path George's thoughts were taking. "No wands, no openings, and no getting out of this cell, except to be tortured. Even then, they immobilise you until you reach the Dark Lord. And rescue is even more laughable."

"It's possible," George said through gritted teeth as he continued to scan the walls for any kind of faults.

"It's not. I've been in here for years - I don't even have count of them any more. Your kind is losing this war, Weasley."

"Well, who'd want to rescue you anyway?" George shot at Malfoy.

Malfoy lunged, driven to sudden anger from his previously calm demeanor. Malfoy slammed him up against the wall, and his fingers found George's throat, and began to tighten.

"You have no idea what you're in for, Weasel," Malfoy hissed, venom in his voice. "You'll be begging for death before you get out."

"Get off him, Malfoy," a Death Eater said. It may have been the first time George had ever been glad to see a Death Eater, as he massaged an aching neck.

Malfoy let him go reluctantly.

"What do you want, Absey?" Draco snarled. "Finally decided to kill me."

The Death Eater, Absey, grinned venomously. "The Dark Lord wishes to see you."


	11. Chapter 11

Emily - Amazing! I wasn't expecting to see you, or any readers from Year Six, on this fiction, due to the huge gap in between. Thanks a lot for the review, anyway! Sorry that there was somewhat of a gap as soon as you joined up - I've generally been better - but I suppose you got used to that stuff on the last go-round.

ginny278 - Thanks for the review! Malfoy's going to be up to some very intriguing stuff...

WeasleyGirl09 - Sorry about the gap...but oh well. In any case, yeah, Hermione's in for a rough time...

Chapter 11

As soon as Becky came down the stairs in the morning, she could tell there was something important happening. First off, the Headquarters were abnormally filled with operatives - Becky, from her (very) limited time experience in the Order so far, knew that it usually wasn't filled with members at this capacity. Secondly, and more importantly, everybody was _buzzing_.

"What's happened?" she asked Seamus as she sat down at one of the breakfast tables. Seamus had evidently either just gotten up, or, more likely, been up all night on work for the Order. Seamus yawned while grabbing a humongous portion of food, ignoring a disapproving look from Mrs. Weasley, who had come to refill.

"Sorry...anyway, from what I've g-gathered - Hermione's woken up," Seamus explained as well as he could with his mouth full of food.

"Hermione - Hermione Granger?"

Seamus shrugged. "Do you know any others?"

It was then that Becky spotted Ron, conversing low further down at the table with Ginny. Ron saw her as well, and grinned widely, then came over. The change in Ron's expression was startling - Ron, so far, had been grim and fairly serious, in Becky's opinion - but he was clearly in a jovial mood, and for once, looked his young age instead of ten years older.

"Hey," said Ginny to Seamus and Becky. She, too, seemed giddy with happiness.

"Guess what?" Ron exploded, not bothering to say hello to them. Seamus met Becky's eyes, looking amused.

"What?" they both said, feigning ignorance.

"Hermione woke up!" said Ron.

"Really, Ron, that's great!"

"I know..." said Ron, then his expression changed as his eyes traveled over to the room where she would now be sleeping. "Wish she would wake up..." Ron muttered under his breath.

Becky was extremely confused.

"Didn't you just -?"

"He means," Ginny jumped in, explaining, "that Hermione is now asleep in the normal way, as she needs a rest from a horrible ordeal."

"Oh."

Madam Pomfrey's head popped through the Wing door. Before she had so much as opened her mouth to explain, about a million questions came her way, some from people who Ron was doubtful even knew Hermione.

"Is she awake?"

"Can I see her?"

"Is she alright?"

"Is she alive?"

Pomfrey scowled.

"Yes, she is awake, no, none of you can see her at the moment, yes, she is moderately fine, and yes, she is most certainly alive." Pomfrey shook her head disdainfully. "Now, if you have stopped your inane questioning, I would like Mr. Weasley to come in here - that's Mr. _Ron _Weasley," she added hastily, making sure to clarify any confusion. She closed the door very fast before she could have the misfortune of hearing any more questions.

Ron got up so fast he knocked over he nearly knocked over his cup of tea - Ginny stopped it at the last moment. He started making his way over before remembering that he should probably ask McGonagall first. His eyes met hers across the room, and she nodded, indicating that she would talk to Hermione later. Ron grinned, unable to restrain himself, and walked through the door, to see a bedridden, but awake, Hermione, and Pomfrey off at the other side of the Wing, caring studiously to a patient.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Hermione shrugged. "I feel quite lucid. Is that you, Ron?"

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. How's your sight?"

Hermione sighed. "I can see some blurry colors on occasion, but it's as bad as being blind, really."

"It'll get better," said Ron. "Come on, we should talk in another room - Ginny and I already set one up -"

"Okay." Hermione then tried to get up and walk out of bed, but found this a difficult task. She was clearly not used to using her legs, arms, and other limbs as she usually was, and they were probably a little weak despite Pomfrey's Anti-Atrophy Potions, so Ron hastened over to her side as she clumsily got out of the bed, wearing a dressing gown. Hermione was evidently having trouble staying steady, so Ron couldn't imagine that she would be able to walk very well, if at all.

"D'you want me to - carry you?" asked Ron hesitantly. He had known what her answer would be, but couldn't help from asking.

Hermione scowled deeply. "No, I do not want you to _carry me_!"

She took an extremely unsteady step and nearly fell over, forcing Ron to grab her around her stomach before she injured herself further. Ron was very glad that she couldn't see his rapidly reddening face.

"I could use a little help, though," she conceded. Ron didn't notice that her cheeks had developed a red tinge as well.

"Alright..come on..." said Ron soothingly. "This way." Ron guided her with his hands as she walked with agonizing slowness, getting used to using her legs again.

"Ron..." Hermione asked as they finally made their way to the door. "Where's my wand?"

"It's in my room. Alright - here's the door - let's make our way to the chair." There were two very comfortable looking chairs in front of a fireplace. Ron pointed his wand at the fireplace and a comfy-looking fire sprung up immediately, he then pointed his wand at both doors and magically locked them. Slowly, he guided her to the chair. She sat unsteadily down, became comfortable, and then sighed deeply.

"Alright, Ron," she said slowly, aware that this would not be a pleasant experience. "Tell me everything."

"Why him?" Becky mused. "Doesn't she have any parents?"

Seamus shrugged. "Dead."

"A brother, or a sister?"

Ginny's expression soured. "Well, Harry was as close to a brother as she ever had..."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"And, well, I guess I would be the closest to a sister. But, well, Hermione and Ron..." Ginny and Seamus grinned at each other.

"What?" asked Becky, totally nonplussed. "They're not married?"

Seamus nearly choked on his drink.

"_Married?_ Ron and Hermione?"

"So no...they're dating then? Or they were?"

"No," said Ginny, shaking her head. "They're much too stubborn."

"Then _why_ -?"

"Let's just say," said Seamus, interrupting, "that while they're not dating or married, it's certainly not _inconceivable_ that they will be, you know -"

"Oh," said Becky. "So she's in love with him?"

"Right," said Ginny.

"And he's -?"

"Oh yes," said Seamus. "He's even more obvious about it than her. But they're both pretty obvious. Anybody who's known them has known it since fourth year, and definitely by sixth year. Jealousy problems," Seamus added, noting Becky's confused face.

"You can say that again," said Ginny rolling her eyes. "Anyway, they haven't had those problems in a couple years know. If not for the war and Horcrux-hunt, they probably would've gotten together a couple years ago."

Becky stared at the locked door where Ron and Hermione were, pondering this new information about the grim young man who now seemed to carry all the world's problems on his shoulders.

George Weasley stared forlornly at the door. Malfoy had left several hours ago, and didn't appear to be coming back. Despite George's hatred of Malfoy - grown from the few unpleasant times he had happened across him at school, not to mention his attempts to kill not only Dumbledore but nearly killing Ron in sixth year as well - Malfoy had given George some interesting information, and George didn't doubt he had more. George wasn't exactly keen on Malfoy coming back - he could still feel Malfoy's half-crazed expression, and the sudden outburst when he had started to choke George before he was taken out. And there was no doubt that, no matter how much George hated Malfoy, no matter how many horrible things he had done, he had, in all likelihood, suffered through horrors that few people would ever have to sustain.

Just then, some food magically materialized in front of George. George ate it quickly, famished. There was very little of it, and none of it tasted particularly good, but George had been in tough situations before in the Order.

_I have to get out of here_, George thought desperately. _Somebody get me out of here._

"This doesn't make any sense."

"I'm sorry, Remus, I don't quite see your point."

"Minerva, look at this map!" Remus insisted. "Ron could see it too, we've talked about it. We've mapped out Voldemort's attacks since the time when he killed Harry, and he should have become _more _aggressive, _more_ ruthless, correct?"

"Well, yes, I suppose, but I would hardly say he's backing off! He's destroyed an entire city, Remus!"

Lupin shook his head. "That's the only major attack since the Battle, and it was almost directly after it. Look, Minerva - there's no reason for him to operate in secrecy any more. Voldemort is a ruthless killer, there's no reason for him to hide around what he's doing if he knows that he's got the upper hand. And he does, Minerva - he's got far more men, the support of most of the giants and werewolves, not to mention the dementors! But ever since the Last Battle, the Order's been winning more and _more _battles, saving _more_ people - it doesn't make any sense! He's not been pressing his advantage."

"Very well, Remus. Assuming this is true - then why?"

"I don't know," said Lupin, running his hands through his hair, which was now almost uniformly gray. "It's almost as if he's weakening the Death Eaters _on purpose_ - he hasn't even been seen since the Last Battle...Or perhaps there's some kind of internal conflict...some power struggle?"

McGonagall sighed. "It seems unlikely. Voldemort's always had complete control over the Death Eaters."

"Director! _Director!_" an urgent voice called out. "Come quick!"

"Sounds like yet another emergency," said McGonagall. "I'd better go, Remus."

Lupin nodded but didn't respond otherwise as he stared at the map, wondering what Voldemort could possibly be up to...

This story will go on another shorter temporary hiatus. Sorry, guys. As I said, it'll be shorter than the last one. So no worries.


	12. Chapter 12

WeasleyGirl09 - Becky probably couldn't outline her feelings clearly for you herself. Suffice it to say, though, they're there...but for who?

ginny278 - Thankfully, now you'll find out what McGonagall was called for.

lbfan - Thanks a lot! When I write out the scenes in wordpad, I typically break up each scene with an extra break in paragraphs, but it looks like when it's submitted in fanfiction, all the indents are gone and there's a space between every paragraph. I'll see if I can break it up another way this go-round.

Chapter 12

"I wonder what that noise is?" Ron mused. He and Hermione had been enjoying some reminisces after the ugly business of Ron recounting all the tales since Hermione's incapacitation. Finally, though, they had been sitting in silence for a moment - aware of a somehow distant murmur in the background that was just the Order members congregated in the mansion - but then suddenly, Ron heard what he assumed were three loud knocks on the Order's front door. The person who had opened it - Ron couldn't recognize her from her voice - could recognize the person who had knocked - but apparently the operative had also brought someone else.

"Lester...who is this?"

"I don't know - says he needs to see -"

"Take me to McGonagall!" the man, who was evidently the operative's charge, snarled. Ron felt an inner sense of old loathing stir in him but he couldn't place the voice. Hermione looked questioningly at him, and he shrugged. Clearly she had felt recognition inside her as well.

"The Director is busy," the woman who had opened the door said stiffly. "And who are you?"

"Go away, for a moment," Lester said to his person. "You can't even see the house, so you can't see her."

"Make her come out to me, then," the man snarled. Ron felt the loathing sense in him increase - he _knew _this man, he had _heard_ that voice...

"What's all this?" McGonagall's voice suddenly spoke out. Ron heard her footsteps. She had clearly heard the slight commotion in her office, and hadn't needed to be summoned. Ron started to get up, curious about what was going on himself, but Hermione motioned for him to be quiet and stay still. Ron acqueisced, though he kept his hand on the doorknob.

"Some man wants to see you, Minerva."

"Not in the Order?"

"No."

"How did he find...?"

"Lester brought him here."

"I found him in London," Lester said, sounding a little defensive, "he already knew your name, and that the Order existed."

"Very well...is that him? By the tree?" Ron heard McGonagall's footsteps lead out of the mansion.

Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione, who finally indicated that he could go out. Ron opened the door to see McGonagall approaching the man by the tree. And, with a sudden instant shock of recognition, he recognized the face he had loathed more than ever all throughout his school years, and immediately began to run out to McGonagall, making sure she didn't meet him first.

"Professor!" Ron yelled. "_It's Malfoy!"_

McGonagall stopped dead.

Draco Malfoy, no more than a ten yards away, sitting by a tree, raised his head and grinned.

"Hello, Weasley," he drawled. "Figured you'd show up sooner or later."

--------------------------

Chris was reading the day's newspaper at the back of the mansion, ignoring the commotion at the door. Beside him was Becky, and beside her, Seamus, and across from them, Remus Lupin and Ginny.

"I wonder who he is?" said Becky.

"He sounded a little familiar..." said Seamus.

"Yes..." Remus mused. "He did."

"Remus?" Chris interrupted. "What's a Slytherin artist?"

"Why are you asking about that?" said Remus sharply. Seamus's expression became a little more grim. Chris tossed the front page of _the Daily Prophet_ onto the table. Remus read aloud so Becky could hear, as she couldn't read upside-down.

"**_SLYTHERIN ARTIST FENDS OFF ATTACKS FROM DEATH EATERS_**

_Renowned and extremely skilled Slytherin Artist Joseph Dart was attacked viciously by a group of Death Eaters, reports the Daily Prophet's Bruce Bungluds. Aurors found the recluse Slytherin Artist's house in flames and with five dead Death Eaters inside, two of whom had been former Slytherin Artists under Dart's command when he was head of the dissolved Artists Council. There was no sign of Dart anywhere in the house, and no Death Eaters had raised the Dark Mark over his house, so it must be assumed Dart escaped alive and is still at large. Though Dart is a well-known and extremely powerful Slytherin Artist, his most distinguishing trait is probably his refusal to join the Death Eaters along with the rest of his Council, making him an easy target for You-Know-Who's attacks..._

_Dart has always lived as a recluse..._

...it's not interesting after that," Remus finished, talking to Becky.

"So, Remus?" Chris asked. "What is it?"

Lupin turned his head to Seamus, who shook his head.

"You can explain it better than I can," said Seamus.

"Alright," sighed Remus. "Chris, what do you know about the founding of Hogwarts?"

Chris shrugged. He was, after all, an American, and barely even knew the name 'Hogwarts' as a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"I don't know...some people got together and said 'hey, we need a school to teach magic'?"

There was a pause. Seamus and Ginny, who had grown up steeped in Hogwarts lore since they were pureblood, were dumbfounded, and stared.

Remus didn't, though the corners of his mouth turned up in a half-smile.

"In essence, though it gets a little more complicated than that. To grossly simplify...four people, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw founded the school, and each had their own House in the school, named on their surname. Each student, when he entered the school, would be put into the House that most corresponded to his or her virtues..."

"How do they sort them now, then? I mean, those people are dead now, right?"

"The Sorting Hat," Ginny interrupted immediately, though she failed to elaborate. Chris was nonplussed.

"The what?"

"A magical hat..." Remus explained. "You place it on your head and it selects the correct House for you...that, however, is not important to our current story...Let me see if I can remember exactly...much of the truth is shrouded in mystery by necessity...

"Slytherin was much more secretive than the other Founders. While they were all close friends at the start, they soon grew apart due to differences in principle...Gryffindor and Slytherin, in particular, had many fights...the principle disagreement was on the subject of whom to let in. You are aware of the prejudices many of the few pureblood families left hold against half-blood wizard or witches, and especially, muggle-born wizards or witches?"

Chris nodded. "You don't mean that that long ago -?"

"Yes. A lot of the conflict, in fact, can be traced back to Slytherin's insistence on letting in only purebloods to the school...eventually, fed up with the constant fights with the other Founders, who disagreed, he left, leaving behind his House and the Chamber of Secrets as his mark on the school for all time."

"The Chamber of Secrets?"

"Later," Remus said, waving his hand. "If we went even through even a quarter of the Hogwarts lore here, it would take years."

"Does the Slytherin House still exist?"

"Yes," Seamus answered this time. "Though I can't see why. All bloody evil, the lot of them."

"Now, Seamus," Remus reprimanded. "While Slytherin House does have a slightly - er - disproportionate share of prejudiced and bigheaded wizards, not all of them are evil."

"Yeah? Like who?"

"Professor Slughorn," Ginny responded immediately.

"A bloody coward," Seamus snarled. "_You_ only like him, Gin, because of that stupid 'Sluggy Club' or whatever it was called -"

"'Slug Club'!" Ginny answered heatedly. "And he is not a coward!"

"Quiet!" Remus said, overriding their bickering. "Slughorn may not be the best example. He is certainly not evil, no, but he is most certainly a coward, and does have his - er - less distinguished aspects."

There were a few moments of silence before Chris got tired of waiting.

"So, go on...Slytherin left..."

"Oh. Right. Anyway, I already told you that Slytherin was extremely secretive. While he left the matter of the Chamber of Secrets, which we will not discuss now, to his family line only, he was a little more inclined to share some of his other secrets. You see, while Slytherin was perhaps prejudiced and arrogant, he was also extremely powerful like the other members of the Founding Four. Slytherin didn't trust them with his secrets as they did with him and each other, however, giving him one advantage against them. However, he knew he couldn't win in a fight against all three of them - nor did he have much inclination, in fact, to kill them - so he simply shared his most powerful findings with his closest and most powerful friends, which were then passed down among the friends families throughout time, and occasionally an outer member who seemed to be apt for the organization - which was labeled Slytherin's Artists."

"What were the secrets?"

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Do we look like incredibly powerful Dark Wizards to you, Chris?"

"Er...yes, that would be the problem," said Remus. "These secrets are very well kept. And in any case, they're not spread very far among the family tree - only to the most powerful members. I personally doubt that the secrets could even be performed by somebody who didn't have very considerable stores of power at his or her disposal."

"So these Slytherin Artists are followers of Salazar Slytherin, who has passed on through time various secrets of untold power? And most of these men support You-Know-Who?"

"Basically," Seamus said. "Cheery little thing, isn't it?"

"Clearly, though, not all of them do support Voldemort," Remus pointed out. "Most significantly, the man who seems to have been the former Head of the Slytherin Artists Council...this Dart...I wonder..." Lupin drifted into silence.

"I wonder where he is now," said Chris.

"He doesn't need to hide," said Remus. "There are only a few people he will ever need to fear..."


End file.
